


Confluence

by AGRey701000



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Heartbreak, Love Triangles, M/M, Turtlecest, forced seperation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGRey701000/pseuds/AGRey701000
Summary: “I’ve come to fetch the Master Storyteller….” Miwa looped her arm around her husband’s bicep, craning her neck up to almost touch the blue clad ninja’s shoulder blade, “…seems our little granddaughter is in great need of her favorite tale.”





	1. The Master Story-Teller’s Decision

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT EDIT. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE TMNT FRANCHISE OR ANY AFFILIATES.  
> Copyright © 2016 Antonia G. Reyes All Rights Reserved.
> 
> Italics = Leonardo Non-Italics = Miwa Bold = Kinako (My OC)
> 
> ******

**Chapter One** : The Master Story-Teller’s Decision

 

The night was quiet, the flickering of the wispy flames of the oil lamps hissed as the summer breeze blew. Dark nights filled with the soft buzz of fireflies and distant cricket symphonies brought forth a deeply ingrained poignancy in Leonardo Hamato.

As the leader of the Hamato ninja clan, he was everything one would expect of the bushi class; disciplined, cunning, strategic, honorable, stealth personified and a master of deception and shadow. From his youth onwards, Leonardo expected nothing short of perfection from himself; as the next in line to uphold the family legacy and name, he knew that for him sacrifices were essential in order to achieve this.

Of course, even with this strict choice regime and manner of lifestyle, Leonardo’s days growing up on the grounds of the Hamato court weren’t spent in loneliness. Had he the misfortune of being brought up alone, his goal of becoming a stone cold ninja might’ve been a success, fortunately for him, he’d been lucky enough to have three brothers to fill his life with all the joys and sorrows afforded to someone in a familial setting.

And it had so been a loving and warm household; with the patriarch master, their father by adoption, the renowned rat Hamato Yoshi and his human daughter, their adoptive sister, Miwa; a formidable kunoichi in her own right.

Yes; on nights such as this Leonardo allowed himself the humble pleasure of nostalgia of memories, for as fleeting as they might be, they invoked in Leonardo a sweetness the blue clad turtle craved greatly, for he felt that for all the bitterness he’d been forced to ingest in his younger years, he deserved this rare indulgence.

And the bitterness of his younger years had been great; more so than anyone could imagine. Even now, in his late fifties, a strong and sturdy albeit delicately cracked pillar of a terrapin, tinged with the coloring of age but still regal in manner and comely with the mightiness of a mountain, Leonardo carried within a mortally fractured spirit that never healed. His exterior displayed the few scars he received in his varied battles and fights but internally, his soul was disfigured beyond recognition. Had it not been for the forever solace of his remaining family’s awaiting arms, the veteran ninja might’ve done away with himself years ago.

“Lost in thought as always my dear.” The aged terrapin blinked at his wife’s voice, his reverie dissipating like smoke. He smiled softly; even after all these years together, Miwa’s voice always had a way of brightening the dimness of his melancholy.

_“Yes…well…you know me Miwa…. Ever the thinker.”_ He straightened himself from his tatami mat he’d been sitting on in the dojo. He walked the few steps to his grinning wife; the passing of time had been gentle and kind, even with the varying wrinkles around her eyes and haughty mouth, gray haired and somewhat tinier due to thinned bones, to Leonardo, she would always be the renegade beauty she’d been as a youth in his eyes.

“I’ve come to fetch the _Master Storyteller_ ….” Miwa looped her arm around her husband’s bicep, craning her neck up to almost touch the blue clad ninja’s shoulder blade, “…seems our little granddaughter is in great need of her _favorite tale_.”

At the mention of their granddaughter’s _‘favorite tale’_ , Leonardo’s aged azure orbs flashed with a profound sadness that Miwa knew all too well. Her beloved husband always became unusually tenderer hearted and prone to sudden bouts of silent weeping in the hidden corners of the homestead where he believed he was well hidden from prying eyes during the spring and especially summer months. But of course, Miwa always knew, in fact everyone close to Leonardo knew, his two brothers, Donatello and Michelangelo also shared in the same attributes as their eldest brother, but unlike Leonardo, the two younger siblings fanned the hot flames of their intense despondency with gusty memories of the ‘ _good days, the better days_ ’ as they called them.

It seemed that even after all this time, Leonardo refused to forgive himself; in truth, he was guiltless for what happened all those years ago, but the blue clad ninja master had always been one to voluntarily carry the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, a great burden he felt obligated to.

He could be such a fool in this instance…but, she loved him greatly for it as well, for she had always innately sensed in him a selflessness that ran deeper than the roots of trees. For her, it was nobler then being a warrior. It was easy to pick up a weapon and fight to the death but not so easy to readily adopt misery as their own.

“Leonardo…” The aged kunoichi frowned movingly, her dusty golden eyes glistening with understanding tears, “….my dear, if you feel it is too painful this time…” _“No…no my love, it is just as well…”_ Leonardo touched his wife’s hand affectionately, sighing resolutely, _“….even though my heart bleeds for him, he lives in the tales I spin, even with the agony at mentioning his name, there is far more reward….in this way, he will live the life he was denied in this world. In this way, he will live forever.”_

There was such a quiet but solid resolve in the ninja master’s eyes and voice that Miwa shivered with pride, her heart swelling with reverence. In comfortable silence they walked towards their grandchild’s room.

*******

Before entering the bedroom, Leonardo and Miwa shared a soothing kiss and then parted ways. As the blue clad ninja slid the doors open, he was greeted by an arm full of excited little girl, chirping and hooting, as was the nature of a terrapin-snake, human hybrid.

_“Oh my, my! Such energy for one whose bedtime should’ve been an hour ago….am I right?”_ The 6 year old’s grandfather tilted his head in that coy fashion that made Kinako’s smile with affection, she truly respected her Sofu-sama, or Baba as she liked to call him. Yes, from as early as the moment she learned to walk, she trailed behind the elderly patriarch; it had gotten to be such a habit of hers that Leonardo warmly nicknamed her “ _my little shadow_ ”.

**“But Baba you know that I can’t possibly go to sleep without my favorite story! Please, please Sofu-sama?”**

Leonardo smiled adoringly at his granddaughter’s dramatics, he loved all his grandchildren, but Kinako, he was somewhat pained, because he refused to play favorites, but he had to admit, she was his favorite.

The favoritism however, had nothing to do with her gender, birth rank or her parentage, it was simply because out of all the grand kids, she reminded him the most of someone very close to him that he never uttered the name of except in privacy for fear that this person’s name and thus memory would be wiped from his mind forever.

It was an unreasonable phobia, but a phobia nonetheless; in all cases, he avoided saying the person’s name whenever possible and the ancestors and God help anyone who uttered this person’s name in the blue clad ninja’s presence. It was forbidden in the Hamato household; the name would never be said.

Of course, it was only with a select few that the name was known—his wife, two brothers and their father before he died.

Leonardo chucked lightly, he carried his beloved grandchild to her futon and then kneeled beside her.

_“Well my chisana kage, let us not waste any more time then.”_ The little girl squealed with delight, she got comfortable, propping herself up with as much pillows as she could get and locked her eyes onto Leonardo.

*******

“ _Listen! Do not speak! For the distant heron croons—he sings the song of the Crimson Sai and the Livid Hanzaki._

_Our tale begins long ago, longer now than it seemed, in a kingdom no longer existing, it was in this land there lived a brave warrior, his name lost to time, known only now as the Crimson Sai. For he was so fierce a fighter on the battlefield that his signature weapon, the twin sai were always stained with his enemy’s blood._

_In the year of falling leaves, his father, the King, announced to him that he was betrothed…..”_

The night seemed to pass on as Leonardo regaled his granddaughter, acting out the signature parts of the story, with gusto and pomp as the little girl intently listened, her body vibrating with exhilaration.

 

“…. _the Crimson Sai valiantly fought the horned army, with each mighty twist and slice of his twin sai, the enemy perished under his knives, until at last the battle won and Crimson breathed a sigh of relief for he had defeated his adversary…..Onward the warrior ventured to the land of the south setting sun---”_

**“To the underworld realm!”** the little girl interrupted, Leonardo titters, “ _Yes! Where his beloved had been spirited away, a prisoner at the Shade of Blue palace, bewitched and teeming with demons…”_

**“---And then what happened next when he reached the Shade of Blue palace?”**

As if a spell had been broken, the second ago Master Storyteller awoke from a trance. The elderly ninja frowned his brows confusedly at the bubbling child before him, “ _When who got to the Shade of Blue palace?”_

**“Yes! Yes Baba, the Crimson Sai arrived at the Shade of Blue palace of the underworld---”**

Leonardo eyes slowly were losing their light of lucidity, a cloud of uncertainty overshadowing them now, he tilted his head distractedly, squinting his eyes _“---Crimson Sai was at the palace…?”_

Kinako recognized the signs right away, her eyes sadden, her Baba didn’t always suffer these episodes of mental lapses, but they happened reguardless; especially during the spring and summer months and when she asked him to regale her with this story.

She looked back up at her grandfather, his body stiff, he look so much like a nervous child, _“---oh, yes the palace! Hmm…let me see…”_ Leonardo turned his back to his now mute granddaughter as he tapped his chin, digging for the remainder of the story…the story he….his…..

Gone. _“….no….it’s gone. I’m…I’m sorry Kinako…per-perhaps I could tell you another story…?”_

**“Sofu-sama…it’s okay…really, I shouldn’t have asked…I…I know…uh, it is summer after all and I know that you can’t help it.”**

Leonardo turned around and looked hard at his granddaughter, the sheepishness, apologetic tone…her beautiful chartreuse eyes….bright but warm like a hearth….like _his_ eyes used to be.

Leonardo knelt beside his grandchild, a bittersweet expression possessing his face, a melancholy smile.

“ _Regardless my darling…I am sorry. I know how much you love that tale….perhaps I can try again another night, hmm?_ ”

Kinako brightened once more, showering her grandfather in kisses and ardent hugs. Leonardo kisses the four parts of Kinako’s face before hugging and then tucking her into bed.

He slowly rose from his position and silently walked out the room.

Yes…he would tell her the story again….the _true_ story.


	2. An Old Friend and a Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT EDIT. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE TMNT FRANCHISE OR ANY AFFILIATES.  
> Copyright © 2017 Antonia G. Reyes All Rights Reserved.
> 
> Italics = Leonardo Non-Italics = Miwa Bold = Kinako (My OC) 
> 
> { } = Flashback Story Sequence Bold = Hamato Yoshi Non-Bold = Kal’Geela (My OC/ Y’Gythgba’s Father)  
> Non-Italics = Raphael Italics = Y’Gythgba 
> 
> ******

  **Chapter Two** : An Old Friend and a Beginning

 

The day started with promise; the house was peacefully silent, Leonardo sighed as he stood idly overlooking the horizon, the ocean still and calm, the distant sounds of town life, the seagulls, the smell of the earth, pine and blossom.

The old ninja closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, held the scent within his lungs and released with a small smile on his lips.

Smiling was at best a rarity for him; back then, when life had been whole, smiling came as naturally as the seasons. Back then, his life had been filled with happiness, with _him_.

Yes; he loved his wife and his other two brothers _but_ …

“ **Baba?** ” The Hamato patriarch turned his head slightly to find his granddaughter peek her head into his study.

“ **Uh, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything Sofu-sama, but you said you wanted to see me about noon time?** ”

“ _Noon…? My, how quickly time seemed to slip my mind._ ” The blue banded turtle walked over to the sliding doors and opened them fully and stepped out, “ _Walk with me Kinako, I want to share something with you…._ ”

The little terrapin-snake girl silently nodded and followed behind her grandfather, all the while her mind rattled with questions.

They walled in a calm quiet until they had reached the north end of the house, initially, Kinako hesitated; _no one_ went down the north wing of the house, grandfather had forbidden anyone from venturing down there except for himself and her great-uncles.

Leonardo halted in his steps and turned to look at Kinako, “ _Kinako do not dawdle, come along._ ”

The girl blinked out of her thoughts and caught up to her grandfather. They walked a little ways but as they did, the chartreuse eyed girl could not help the overwhelming sense of melancholy; she was a stranger to this emotion, for she had never once in her six years experienced it and to suddenly be gripped with such a foreign emotion frightened her.

She walked close to her grandfather and grabbed his hand in a tight vice, refusing to let go. The old terrapin glanced down at his grandchild, he sensed the uneasiness emanating from her and started to second guess his decision to share this secret with her but he resolved himself; she may be young but she wasn’t an ordinary child.

From an early age, he’d sensed in her something akin to an ethereal maturity that most would acquire as they grew, but Kinako seemed to have been born with an old soul that she herself could not totally explain or fully understand, but that Leonardo knew all too well.

She had the temperament and the intuitive sense to appreciate such sensitive information and she was at an age where her heart was developing; where love for new things and people was still flourishing.

 

*******

They stood before large sliding doors; Leonardo put his hands on the niches of the door and opened them seamlessly. The Hamato patriarch walked in somberly and proceeded to light the oil lamps spread about the room; Kinako aimlessly walked about the domain in meek awe; despite the darkness, the little girl could still make out the intricately designed tapestries and furniture of the dwelling. What caught her eye however was the writing desk that had ink wells, rice paper and linens, paint brushes that looked like they’d been used frequently and old, faded ink stains soaked into the face of the table over years.

When Leonardo had finally lit the last lamp, he snuffed out the match and then turned to address Kinako, but before he uttered a word, he fell silent and watched as the little girl observed the papers on the writing desk; she was bent over the table and silently overlooking the drawings, her eyes glowing with amazement.

His face melted at the sight and he huffed out a breath of resignation. “ _They’re beautiful aren’t they?_ ”

Kinako swiftly turned her head in surprise at her grandfather, she straightened up, “ **Oh!, yes Baba, these are so delicately drawn! Did you make these? Is this you’re secret art room?, Are you going to teach me to paint today?!** ” The little girl’s excitement bubbling over and her eyes shining with anticipation.

Leonardo tutted and trudged over, bent down and tentatively grazed the surface of the papers and other materials on the messy desk, a twisting in his heart, a pang of longing. “ _No…unfortunately, I am not the artist…_ ” Kinako observed her grandfather’s face, his eyes downcast and lingering on the artwork; a hazy ennui floating in his eyes and a tenderness she’d only ever seen a handful of times.

“ **B-Baba…are---** ”

“ _What would you say if I told you that all the bedtime stories I’d ever voiced were based on a real person…?_ ”

Kinako was taken aback by the abruptness of the question, she frowned, “ **Ah…I—don’t----** ”

Before the little girl could answer the question, Leonardo had moved from the writing desk to a solitary cupboard that stood in the middle of the room, it was a dark mahogany color, simple in its design and structure. The old ninja knelt in front of it, “ _Come and sit beside me my dear._ ”

The little terrapin-snake did as she was told and took a seat beside her grandfather.

Leonardo proceeded to open the cupboard and when he did, Kinako could not keep the astonishment out of her expression. The interior of the seemingly plain piece of furniture hid within a spectacular array of artistry unlike anything she’d ever seen.

The delicately carved doors which featured two rivers that transformed into dragons in-between the heavens and the earth. In the middle of the decorative space stood a shrouded portrait, for this was a memorial altar. The cloth was thick and blackout, she could not see the figure behind it but just as she was about to utter a word, the blue banded ninja opened a drawer and took out four sticks of incense and lit them. He secured them in the ash plates on both sides of the portrait.

“ _How many tales have I spun for you in the last six years I wonder…can you perhaps recall?_ ”

Kinako tilted her head to look up at her grandfather, she shyly smiled, “ **I remember them all Baba; the story of the Hot-headed Tiger and Sly Fox….the Feast of the Pines….hmm…oh, and the Romance of the Two Rivers. That one’s my _second favorite_ story.** ”

Kinako was smiling widely now, it had been one of the very first stories the aged ninja had ever told her.

In the earlier days, he’d play the shamisen as he told it; as old age progressed however, so did the pains in his hands, it had saddened Kinako to such an extent that she's made the decision at three to learn how to play the instrument and true to her pledge, she was currently in lessons because at the age of three she’d been too young to wield the instrument.

“ **In the time of harmony, in the Kingdom of the North, where things slept and dreamt and the Kingdom of the South, where thing arose and began, two lords resided; they had formed a friendship through many battles fought side by side. These lords both had children, the Moon king, ruler of the North, a son, the River Aka, tumultuous and intense. The Sun King, ruler of the South, a daughter, the River Aoi, steady and unpredictable…..** ”

“ _…..These two lords, having what they believed an iron clad comradery desired a union between their two kingdoms and so agreed to betroth their children to each other….._ ”

     It’s not true what they say; that an elder’s memory soon dissipates into the likes of steam on a hot summer’s day.

In fact, it is quite the opposite. It’s the only thing that doesn’t wither and grow old.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

{{{{{   “Come on Raphie!! You can do better than that---slow turtle, slow turtle!! Hahahahaha!!!”

The livid and frustrated second eldest—Raphael huffed and growled menacingly at his little brother, the youngest—Michelangelo, whose incessant taunts and teases drove the hot-headed red-banded turtle to his limit.

He dashed after the jovial reptile, all the while the eldest—Leonardo and third eldest—Donatello watched on amusingly, laughing right along with the squealing youngster.

They were supposed to be practicing their katas as Papa had instructed them to do! One minute Raphael is in the middle of mastering a particularly difficult exercise he’d been botching, then suddenly he has a mud ball to the face!

“Mikey!!!! I’m going to clobber you!!! ARGGHH!!!”

The orange-banded turtle’s sky blue eyes flashed with pure joy, he giggled, “You’re going to have to catch me first!!!” and just like that, the little speeder was half way the large cherry blossom tree, all the while grabbing enthusiastically at whatever tiny twigs, leaves and flowers he could get his little hands on and throwing them down on a practically shrieking Raphael.

“AHHHH!!! MIKEY!! Stop! ST---”

“ **YAMI!** ” suddenly the light hearted and albeit anxiously furious air was cut clean through by the resonating baritone that was their father’s voice.

All four turtles silently lined up in front of their father, awaiting a lecture.

The modest but regally astute rat stood still as stone in front of his rambunctious children, he eyed them each—one by one.

Leonardo—the leader, ever the model student and son did not make eye contact with his father out of respect and stood quietly, serenely—a tinge of flushed cheek—from laughing no doubt, the master ninja mused.

Donatello—the inventor, matched the attitude and stance of his eldest brother, though, if the meekness in his eyes was anything to go by, he was worried about the punishment he was expecting to receive.

Raphael—the protector, covered head to foot in a concoction of mud, twigs, leaves and cherry blossoms. His demeanor betraying nothing of his current emotional turmoil; the child was stiffly shaking, not from fear but utter anger and when the red-banded turtle was angry, tears were also soon to follow. From the looks of it, the second eldest was on the verge of just that; Yoshi inwardly sighed, not because his child was about to cry but because he had yet to find an outlet that would remedy his son’s over excessive emotions.

It was one thing to openly feel and express one’s self but another thing entirely when one could not bend and train their emotions in a manner of usefulness in the world.

He also, simply enough, hated to see any of his children hurting---it took a great deal to control his own heartstrings from becoming entangled in his children’s distress and melancholies. After all, when the child was in straits, so was the parent.

Next his mind shifted over to the youngest---the enigma---Michelangelo; looking just about the way he’d expected the baby of the family to look---hands clasped behind his shell, twisting his foot in the dirt in a sheepish manner and having the audacity to carry on his face a sweet smile and rosy cheeks. Dirtied head to toe and then some in about as much earthy grim as the second eldest, the clan leader had to stifle a guffaw into a ‘humph’. But the glimmer in his mischievous son’s eyes let him know that it did not go unnoticed.

After assessing the damage, the ninja cleared his throat, “ **What happened my sons?** ”

There was a collective silence between the four children, each wordlessly and mentally arguing between the lot of them, all that is except for the second eldest, his eyes blazing—chartreuse meeting dark chocolate brown in determination.

“It was Mikey Sensei! We were practicing katas like you asked us to and then he goes off somewhere, I continued to practice and then suddenly—WHAM! I have a face of dirt! And just when I’d mastered the crane kata!”

The tirade ended in a tense murmur and whimper from the youngest, now taking refuge behind Leonardo.

Yoshi digested the information put forth, running a hand up and down the single strand of brownish gray beard.

“ **Michelangelo, for your disobedience you will have an extra two hours of chores, meditation and kata practice. And you will apologize to Raphael this instant.** ”

A comical groan and blubbering ensued but one look at his father’s resolute face had the child drying his crocodile tears and abandoning any excuses he would’ve used to get out of his punishment.

The orange-banded turtle walked up slowly to a glowering Raphael, peeked a look at the red banded youngster’s face, squirmed in his place, bowed deeply and spoke, “Gomenasai Onii-san, for ruining your kata practice and throwing mud, twigs, leaves and cherry blossoms at you! And teasing you—calling you slow turtle, slow—“

“ ** _Yes_ , Michelangelo, yes I think we’ve heard enough. Now run along with your other brothers—Leonardo and Donatello, you will supervise him on his newly assigned duties.**” The groans of the latter had the ninja master chuckling to himself.

When the three had gone out of sight, the rat turned to look down at his somber son, bottom lip poking out, eyes burning with tears and nose running.

His chocolate brown eyes warmed considerably, he bent down and took from inside his kimono sleeve a handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the turtle’s face gently.

The latter, too embarrassed and wallowing to care. The clan leader frowned, slowly removing what was left of the small twigs and other debris on the turtle. The silent treatment; the rat mused.

“ **Come; let us get you washed up before dinner.** ” His arms outstretched invitingly to his emerald skinned son. The said child finally looked up and met his father’s eyes once more—such a tender and loving expression on his face, the hot-headed youngster furrowed his little brow, his eyes welling up once more---he bowed his head, fists hiding his eyes as he begrudgingly walked into his father waiting embrace.

The rat hugged his weeping child tightly, standing briskly and together they disappeared into the house.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, Raphael stayed in the company of his father, trudging behind him, almost as silent as Leonardo during stealth training. He was almost a shadow—and yet it was slightly troubling, for the second oldest had never been this quiet before.

Usually after a temper tantrum or a fight with one or all his brothers and then after a stern berating, punishment and wallowing the red-banded turtle was right as rain the next day. But _this_ , quiet as the night and meek, wrapped in his favorite blanket sitting beside his father at his writing desk as the clan leader read his various letters of correspondence, _well_ it was almost enough to lose your appetite over.

“ **Raphael? Are you still upset over what happened with your brother Michelangelo earlier? Come now my son you—** ”

“It’s not that!” The nibbling on his bottom lip was a sign to the ninja master that indeed it was not the aforementioned incident but something deeper. From as far back as he could recall, Raphael always had the tendency to fidget or nibble on his lip when he was plagued by deeper internal issues or questions.

The rat’s expression relaxed slightly, he moved his hands idly on the desk but all the while his attention was on his son.

“ **What is really troubling you my boy?** ”

The child was quiet for a moment, his chartreuse eyes dimmed, he huffed dejectedly, “The kata---I _really did almost master it_ —just like Leo! I---“ the turtle looked down then looked up, eyes in distress and then look down slowly, his voice a whisper, “I-I just thought, well—if I’d been able to show you the progress I’d made---that, that you’d be….” A sniff, “I just wanted you to be proud of me Papa.”

 _Papa_.

The endearment tugged at his heart—swelling it to such a degree that every time his ears where graced with the utterance, the clan leader thought he’d suffer an attack.

But now, for it to be uttered in this sense--it was as if the enemy had dealt a mighty and fatal blow. His heart throbbed so hard against his sternum and rib cavity that he had to fight the urge to grasp at his furred chest.

It was painful and shameful—to think, what had he done wrong through the years to suggest to Raphael that he was nothing but a disappointment?!

_It wasn’t true! It would never be true!_

The clan leader acted swiftly; he gathered his dejected son in his arms and held him fast, trying above all else to desperately convey through the embrace that he was one of the most precious and priceless treasures of the master ninja’s life.

The wiggling of the turtle brought the rat back to attention and he composed himself enough to speak, settling his perplexed son on his writing table, cupping his face in his clawed hands and forced the child to keep eye contact with him.

“ **Don’t you _dare think_ for a moment’s notice that you aren’t as loved or valued as your other brothers. _You will never be a disappointment_ —for I could not be more proud to call you my son, Raphael**.”

The intensity of the statement had both in such a transfixion that it took the flickering out of the candlelight lanterns to break the spell.

Suddenly the cloud of melancholy and despair were lifted and cleared from the turtle’s mind and spirit and replaced with a renewed vigor and peace. The red-banded turtle smiled so widely and sincerely that the ninja master swore that the edges of his mouth would crack; his heart soared—his beloved child no longer felt so heavy in his arms, now he seemed light as a feather.

Chartreuse eyes glistening with jubilant tears, the young turtle lunged forward and embraced his father around his neck and squeezed, small chirps and trills vibrating throughout his chest.

Yoshi laughed happily and shut his own tear-filled eyes to prevent them both from drowning. Giving his second eldest a firm pat on his shell he set the turtle to stand, “ ** _Now_ , I believe it is time for bed---hurry along and join your brothers, I shall be around shortly to tuck you all in and regale you will a bedtime story.**”

The emerald green child nodded excitedly and ran out the room jauntily, his blanket long forgotten and left by the writing desk.

His own inner calm restored, the clan leader decided to look over a few more of his correspondence letters before heading out to see his sons.

As he scanned over a random letter in his hand, one tucked under old mail caught his eye; it was new, still in its envelop and stamped with the Seizas clan crest. The master ninja’s eyebrows rose in recollection— _Seizas_ ….! _Could it be_ ….?

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

 ** _{{{{{_**     ** _Yoshi,_**

**_How have you been my old friend? It has been so long since our last correspondence but not a day goes by that you are not in my thoughts. Life here in Salamadria is harmonious at last---has been for several years in fact, you must come as soon as able to visit, for I’m sure that out of anyone, you would be able to appreciate the socio-economic and political progression my country has made. It truly has changed since you were last here._ **

**_Alas, small territorial wars still wage on now and again but unlike before, it is now resolved ‘at the table’ as you so often euphemized. Due to this fact, as my country’s ambassador, I travel consistently to other neighboring provinces, countries and territories in the name of peace making and friendship._ **

**_Which has brought me to the point of this hasty letter---in three weeks’ time, I shall cross the ocean to Asia and seeing as you are only another short ship ride away, I hope you won’t think it presumptuous of me if I were to come for a week visit?_ **

**_I know that you may not get this letter anytime soon and I do apologize for that—oh and I shall have my young daughter with me, I hope that will not be of any trouble. This shall be one of our last quality times together, for she is of the age where she will soon be off to the military academy, as I’d told you before---it’s a rite of passage for all youth in my homeland._ **

****

**_I hope this letter finds you promptly and well—see you soon,_ **

****

**_Kal’Geela Seizas    }}}}}_ **

 

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

************

The first day of the week---Monday…..early morning.

 

“Master Hamato-Sama, the house is spic and span---everything is in order for your guests.” The overseer informed; the clan leader looked up from his standing position as he observed his sons performing their mid-morning katas in the courtyard. Without turning his head, Yoshi gave a short nod, “ **Hm—arigato Ameko-san; when my guests arrive be sure to inform me.** ” The overseer bowed gracefully and made himself scarce.

The rat turned his attention back to his sons—Leonardo, precise and sharp as usual, very good. Donatello—somewhat distracted, but form is more fluid then before, progress—well done. Raphael---solid but too rigid—must loosen up his movements but his jabs and foot work are spot on---progress, well done. Michelangelo---distracted as usual but strangely accurate in maneuver and agility---progress, well done.

“ **Yami!** ”

At once the children stopped their movements and lined up once more. Yoshi smiled at them, “ **You are all showing progression in your ninjitsu training, I am impressed my sons---that will be all for now. Now go wash up---we have a very important guest coming to visit with us and I want you all clean and presentable.** ”

“Hai Sensei!” the turtles all scuttled off to the bath without hesitation.

 

 ***********

 

Around late morning--early noon time, Kal’Geela and his daughter Y’Gythgba arrived at the gate of the estate. They were greeted cordially by the overseer and lead to the main entrance where they were treated to a warm reception by Hamato Yoshi and his sons.

When the two old friends were reunited after years of being apart, there stood between them an air of nostalgia that had only been as strong as a drawn out stream of smoke when both were singular, but now, in the same place, at the same time—the smoke evolved into a shadow show of memories forged long ago on the battlefield, in the quiet of mundanity and in the countless courts they’d been privy to as commanders within their own regimes.

The rat smiled warmly, his ears twitching and tail swaying rhythmically, “ **Kal’Geela…my friend…** ”

The lizard mirrored the ninja master’s sentiment; smiling broadly, mango colored eyes bright,

“Yoshi…”

Instantly the clan leader was enveloped in a bear embrace lifting the grown mutant slightly off the ground. A surprised breathy laugh erupted from the rat’s lungs and throat; a deep tenor laugh spilled from the lizard, “Hahaha!! _Yoshi!_ It is so good to see you again!”

Yoshi laughed so easily and freely that the turtles found themselves entranced by the display; after a while, the hug ended with the two patting each other’s shoulders and backs in a comradery gesture of familiarity.

“ **Kal’Geela, I’m pleased to see you arrived here without trouble, the journey was pleasant was it not?** ” the ninja master lead the way towards the entrance of the house.

“Oh yes! Albeit, travel by ship has always made me nervous, but aside from that, everything was fine— _fine_!”

Yoshi nodded attentively and then stopped in front of his sons, “ **Kal’Geela, let me introduce you to my sons…** ”

“ **My eldest Leonardo** \--”the aforementioned oldest bowed respectfully in front of Yoshi and Kal’Geela, “--- **my second eldest Raphael** \---” the emerald skinned child mimicked his blue-banded brother’s example, but unlike his older brother, he not only bowed to the two males, he had spotted the ambassador’s daughter standing slightly behind her father, very quiet but observant and bowed to her as well to which the latter blinked and then looked up at her father for guidance.

Kal’Geela smiled encouragingly at his young daughter and patted the back of her head affectionately.

The little female offered a slight bow back; this actually caused the red-banded turtle to become bashful, to which the adults chuckled and his brothers snickered.

“--- **my third eldest Donatello--** ”who bowed and offered a small smile, “--- **and lastly, my youngest---Michelangelo---** ” the orange-banded turtle bowing and offering up a toothy smile.

 

Kal’Geela grinned softly and stepped back, straightening himself as a soldier would, winked at his daughter, who was smiling broadly at this point and cleared his throat, “I am pleased to make the acquaintance of such gentlemen. I am Kal’Geela Seizas, former Commander of the Wipala regiment and Ambassador of Salamadria.”

The reptilian children stared wide-eyed in awe of this regale sounding stranger, speechless and reeling. The lizard grinned kindly and then turned his head to address his daughter, her eyes shining in admiration for her father, “It is my honor to introduce to you all my daughter, Y’Gythgba Seizas, my youngest out of my brood of three older sons who are off at school.”

The aforementioned youngster came forward in front of Yoshi and the turtles; she bowed with poise and esteem and then rose, a serene and confident air permeating from her, “ _I am pleased to meet you Master Hamato-sama_ ; _I am pleased to meet you all._ ” She turned to the boys and bowed a second time.

*************

 

Later that  same afternoon, the duo were sat on tatami mats in the dinning courters, sliding doors opened to a large and luscious courtyard, the sun high but the breeze cool and smelling of fresh blossoms, chrysanthemums and hydrangeas.

“Yoshi, you are doing a marvelous job---they will be outstanding warriors one day---how is it you came to adopting them?”

The ninja master sipped his jasmine tea thoughtfully and look beyond at his four sons as they performed their second round of basic ninjitsu katas, the careful movements coupled with the intertwined concentration; Yoshi smiled.

“ **Shortly after becoming the new patriarch and Master of the Hamato ninja clan, at the request of the Emperor, we were assigned to various stealth missions. The country had been at war with the neighboring Eurasians and so I found myself on one particular stealth mission to a terrapin village to usher them out of the valley before the enemy’s rampaging—unfortunately, the Eurasians got there before us…the terrapin village had been up in flames….** ” The clan leader’s ears folded back, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched.

Kal’Geela laid a comforting hand on his old friend’s shoulder blade, his own heartstrings tugging.

“ **….they’d murdered everyone—men, women… _children_. At least, that had been the assumption, but by some miracle, one of my ninja heard whimpering and under various debris I’d discovered them… _my sons_.** ”

His smile was poignant, soft and emotional. “ **I’d already had my daughter beforehand but my wife unfortunately died sometime ago when Miwa had turned two---she is currently off visiting with her maternal grandparents, but should be back well before you leave us. That being said, I’d been in mourning when I’d come across the turtles and my heart called out to them; I couldn’t just abandon them to the unknown. They aren’t brothers by blood but _now…_ they are all that is left as far as I know….**”

At the end of Yoshi’s story, the two sat in reverent silence; the somber lizard look on at the lively terripins, ‘ _So young and yet their lives already touched by such tragedy…._ ’ Kal’Geela then gazed at the back of his daughter’s head as she was perched on the porch, watching the brothers loosely spar.

The ambassador’s eyes shined, so precious she was—his only female child, _his baby_. Truth be told, although she’d been the youngest born, at an early age, she’d shone promise of growing up to one day do great things. His sons were ambitious it was true, but what they lacked was patience to acquire their means to achieve their personal goals. Y’Gythgba however seemed made of the elusive concept. Oh, she had her moments of pretentiousness like her brothers, but when it counted she was always able to reconfigure it to her advantage or out of reason.

“ _Papa, may I go and play with the brothers?_ ” the mango golden eyed child asked, looking hopefully at her father.

Kal’Geela blinked out of his reverie and looked at his child, “Hmm—what? Oh! Yes, well that is….” The lizard glanced over at Yoshi and the rat smiled at the youngster, “ **Of course my dear, run along**.”

The little girl smiled and hopped off the porch and made her way over to the boys.

**************

 

“Yeah Leo! You’re so awesome!” the little orange-banded turtle squawked enthusiastically, Donatello snickering softly, but watching ever so often. The two sparring turtles were in their own world; a world not on this plain, they jabbed, side-kicked and flipped to and from each other, dodging and tagging each other in jest and fervor.

 

As the two sparred, Donatello suddenly felt a presence to his left and jumped slightly at the sudden appearance of Y’Gythgba, the ambassador’s daughter, seated on her knees and watching intently as the two eldest brothers practiced.

“ _Donatello, is it? Tell me, what is it—this, this 'ninjitsu' your father is teaching you….?_ ”

The young inventor was taken aback by the question, but he pushed that aside---any chance to exercise his brain, he thought.

“It’s an ancient Japanese battle art; wrought in years of practice and technique. Its origins are shrouded in mystery and secret, for it is the only known martial art to have emerged without explanation and till this day no one knows how the ninja came to be.”

Y’Gythgba’s eyebrow ridges rose high and her eyes were bright with questions---“ _Fascinating! Now—what about the technique, is there a curriculum one must follow to achieve ninja status? Oh! How is that move Leonardo did mastered—oh, or that one Raphael is doing now!?_ ”

So many questions, so little time---the lizard had always been an inquisitive sort and these fellow reptiles were so fascinating to her; they were a rarity, she’d gathered from their father’s explanation of their origins.

Her heart thumbed in empathy for these terrapins but she was never in the habit of treating others with pity or placation. Her father raised her and her brothers to be realistic, unapologetic in matters of opinion and truth; treat others with respect and equality. No one is below or above you---we all bleed and die in the end.

Donatello was overwhelmed but the inner teacher in him was racking his brain on facts to recite to her. “Ah! Well first the technique—you see---”

“How about you let the girl get up here and we can show her how ninjitsu is _really_ done?” by this time Leonardo and Raphael had stopped sparing when they’d noticed a lack of boisterous volume coming from their other two brothers and when they stopped to inquire, they saw that the lizard girl was seated beside Donnie and asking questions to which the genius was in the middle of explaining.

Everyone looked up at the sweating red-banded turtle, his eyes set in a challenging stare, he eyed Y’Gythgba and quirked an eyebrow ridge, “Well _girly_ —how about it?” he asked unabashedly.

Donatello scowled and huffed, “Raph she hasn’t any experience with this martial art! What if she gets hurt?” he frowned disapprovingly.

Leonardo sighed, pinching the ridge of his eyes, “Raph…Donnie…” he murmured exasperatedly.

“ _Well_ what better way to get started then to--- _get started_?” the red-banded turtle sassed and then scoffed, “Come on Donnie I’m not gonna---“

“ _Alright_.”

All four youngsters paused mid argument, “Uh, what you say now…?” Raph uttered, the others facial expressions speaking volumes.

Undeterred, Y’Gythgba rose from her sitting position and unfastened the scarf across her right shoulder and proceeded to walk over to the sparring square, all the while tossing her garment over to the youngest, “ _Will you please hold this for me Michelangelo_?” she gave him a sweet smile and the jokester smiled back, “Sure!”, who then proceeded to wrap the silky fabric around his head.

The red-banded turtle gawked at the wiry lithe girl, carrying herself with a bravado that he’d only every seen in males—it didn’t so much confound him as it intrigued him. He glanced at his brothers quickly and each was wearing a different emotion; Donatello looked helpless and worried, Michelangelo was practically bubbling with anticipation and Leonardo…he was almost unreadable… _almost_. Given the slight twitch of his eye and stiff demeanor, Raphael knew those to be signs of annoyance.

“ _I am ready… **Master Raphael**_ …” the red-banded turtle prickled at that, he could feel his irritation beginning—was she…was she _making fun_ of him? Chartreuse eyes narrowed sharply at the seemingly innocent lizard girl, who was facing him at attention waiting for her impromptu lesson.

Raphael huffed and bowed to her, she followed the gesture—the turtle inwardly scoffed, ‘ _Well she isn’t simple…knows how to follow cue…_ ’

“Now we begin with the foot and arm kata----”

*************

 

Every kata performed was mirrored almost to par with the red-banded turtle; he had to admit, it was impressive—for someone who’d never known ninjitsu, she sure seemed in tune with the logistics of the martial art.

Of course, this did not fan the flame of slighted insult---“Okay, so you’re able to perform the katas…lets go for something a little more _advanced_ …” Raphael smirked, he readied his position and at once performed a combination of jabs and kicks.

As the Salamandrian watched the red-banded turtle perform the complex kata routine, she couldn't stave off the feeling that her earlier tease had struck a nerve with the second eldest; even though he'd been the one to _challenge_ her in the first place. She had to suppress a knowing smirk; boys were all the same--no matter the race or species, they liked to taunt and tease but when it was thrown back they would become sour faced and stomp off in a mood. The object of any boy's game was to _win_ and growing up with three older brothers, she'd learned fast that winning was the way to either shutting them down or gaining respect.

 

 _Besides_ , she huffed as she closed her eyes---she had always relished a good challenge. When the turtle was done, his brothers all whistled and howled with praise--- _boys_. Raphael looked back over his shoulder at her---"You liked that?" he smirked smugly.

 

She looked at him with indifference---pompous, thin-skinned _and_ a showboat? She smiled to herself-- _oh...this would be fun._

 

As she took her stance, she breathed in and out---she began the combination kata slowly, methodically and sharply... _then---_ all at once she moved with power, intensity and purpose--every technique matched to near perfection---near because she was tweaking certain moves to accommodate her particular physique, but nonetheless, well enough. 

 

As she completed the kata, she was met with utter and tense silence. She observed her hosts and all of them were wide-eyed and mouths gaping. The first to break free of the shock was Raphael, but quickly his hair-trigger temper had blazed, "What's the big idea?! I thought you didn't know anything about ninjitsu?!" By this time everyone else had also shook the spell and were staring between the two.

 

Y'Gythgba's neutral face morphed into one of peevishness, her tail stilling in mid swing; any Salamandrian would know this was a sign to tread lightly--but of course she wasn’t dealing with fellow brethren. She shrugged, " _I don't but_ \---"  "So your motive was to make a fool out of me?!" she frowned at his rudeness and zeroed a hard stare at Raphael, she 'humphed' " _I wasn't the one to goat on the novice here! And besides, just because I've never heard of ninjitsu doesn't mean I'm not a quick study._ " She remarked brazenly.

 

Raphael growled dangerously low---somewhere deep within his mind he knew his anger was unjustified--she was right on all accounts; she'd never asked to actually do anything. Unfortunately for the red-banded turtle, his emotions viewed things in black or white---either he was angry or not. The hot-headed child took a stance, “Well let’s see how _quick_ you learn to _defend!_ \---” in a shot he charged at her and by all accounts—she had been _surprised_ ; she’d expected him to run from her as most boys had done after she’d called them out, but… _but_ \---

 

She barely had time to block, nearly slipping mid-step, next came a flurry of jabs, elbows, hands and each time with more gusto then the last. Hastily she continued to defend herself and move out of his line of attack…he was fast and livid---he could see no color but fury and Y’Gythgba knew  she’d done it.

 

She scowled with embarrassment—if there was one bad habit she had it was not having tact in social situations—she was never good at picking up cues and because of this, she more often than not came off as arrogant or insolent to her elders and peers.

 

In her distraction, Raphael had managed to leg-swipe her off the ground causing her to yelp and land flat on her back.

 

She could hear ringing in her ears and had to shake the dizziness away but as soon as she did, her sight was met with a cruelly smirking Raphael, “ _Gee_ \---guess you’re _not_ as quick a study as you _claimed_ to be.” The turtle huffed and began to walk away.

 

In that moment, on the ground, Y’Gythgba felt nothing; nothing other than rage and adrenaline pumping through her body like mad. Her pupils turned to slits and she grinded her teeth—she let out a menacing hiss and immediately she was up and running toward the departing turtle and as she got within lunging distance, she let out a terrifying roar.

 

“ _AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!_ ”

 

Raphael, halted in his tracks, but didn’t have time to react properly as he was tackled to the ground, trying with all his might to push the irate Salamandrian off him.

 

She delivered upon him punch after punch, rolled him around, all the while he’s yelling and screaming at her but still fighting her as well; at one point he'd managed to get her in a headlock and as she struggled against his arms, futilely trying to bite him, she paused and instead opted to lick him instead which got the much satisfied result---he was utterly repulsed and dropped her to the ground.

 

The look on his face was so hilarious that Y’Gythgba found herself laughing…?

 

She was _laughing_ ….?? The Salamandrian’s mango golden eyes were sparkling with tears of amusement, her mouth parted in a wide toothy smile, a loud and spritely chorus flowed from her like an instrument and it was this that had Raphael frozen in his place. His anger fizzled out in  sheer disbelief.

 

“ _HAHAHAHA!!!!Y-Your….HAHA!! You—your face—I lick you and you’d think it was like I poisoned you!!! AHAHAHA!!!_ ”

 

The laughter and earlier screaming was what had the two preoccupied men running over, only to be greeted to a sight; Raphael in mid attacking position and Y’Gythgba sprawled on the ground.

 

To say that Yoshi was utterly aghast would be an understatement---he was mortified. And Kal’Geela was comically freaking out.

 

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?” the frazzled ambassador bellowed, looking furiously between the two children.

 

“ **RAPHAEL! What is the meaning of this!** ” the tone meant business, Raphael got out of fighting stance and Y’Gythgba got to her feet, still tittering away and brushing her scaled skin off, dirt and leaves and other things littered her and the red-banded turtle’s bodies but she didn’t care in the slightest.

 

“Y’GYTHGBA RI’YA SEIZAS---WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?!” Y’Gythgba looked up at her father, his expression one of a crazy person, the little girl smiled and composed herself to the best of her ability.

 

“ _Well...Raphael and I were fighting, Papa_.” Honest and straightforward, the lizard gawked at the nonchalance of his daughter. To this she sighed and rolled her eyes--- _rolled her eyes_ …?!

“ _What I mean is, Raphael challenged me to a ninjitsu lesson, I teased him by calling him ‘Master Raphael’—I guess he didn’t like that---I demonstrated my talents and he got mad because he thought I was insulting him with my skills. Then he got snippy with me and I defended myself and I guess he thought I was insinuating he was a ‘fool’...? Anyways, he suddenly started attacking me and I defended but then he tripped me up and got arrogant with me and that made me mad, so I got up, tackled him and then we proceeded to wrestle and scuffle. He got me in a headlock and then I licked him at one point and----heheheh---and—hehehhahaha!!! He—you should’ve s-ss-seen his face…hahaha!!! It was like E’Gari when I th—threw that sp-spider at him---hahahahaha!!!_ ”

 

“That is _enough_ Y’Gythgba.” The giggling Salamandrian slowly sobered up at the serious tone of her father’s voice. She dared a look at him—his face contorted in a disappointed and disapproving manner. The little girl ducked her head—she mentally berated herself---she’d done it _again_ …. _darn those social cues_ ….!

                                                                                                        

Yoshi cleared his throat and looked down at his son, who was sporting an expression of utter astonishment.

 

“ **Raphael, is what Y’Gythgba said the truth of it all or not?** ” the turtle gulped down his nerve and stiffly nodded, “Yes P— _Sensei_ ” the term only ever used during training or when the turtles were in trouble. The rat sighed and closed his eyes, ears folded down and from what he could feel in the aura of his friend, the lizard was feeling the same embarrassment and agitation he was experiencing.

 

After some tense momentary silence, the two parents looked between their children and then glanced at each other; an idea forming between the two of them.

 

Yoshi wore a mask of diligence, “ **Kal’Geela, I believe we can rectify this situation by a joint reprimand—do you not agree?** ” his tone level and diplomatic, his gaze now considerably calmer.

 

The ambassador feigned consideration—he knew the children were eying them both out of anxiety of the impending consequences. The lizard nodded his approval, adding “Yes Yoshi, _I do_ \---” the Salamandrian looked pointedly at his apprehensive daughter, “—Y’Gythgba, being that we are guests of our host---” he pointed in Yoshi’s direction and made sure she followed its guide, “---you will take on any punishment Master Hamato-sama places on you. _Is that understood?_ ”

 

Y’Gythgba swallowed and nodded deeply. Raphael grimaced and bowed his head guiltily. Yoshi smiled wearily but quickly dropped it.

 

“ **Your punishment--- you will get up early--before the sun rises, water the garden, hand mop the floors and tend to the rice fields with Abe-san.** ”

 

Raphael balked, “But—but--- _Sensei_ …!” Yoshi held a hand up warningly, “ **That is your sentence--- _no excuses—_ is that clear children?**”

 

Both nodded their heads despondently and Kal’Geela grinned at Yoshi. The parents gave permission for the two to go off and clean up, along with the other turtles and with that, the first unexpected and tumultuous day ended with the setting of the sun.

 

 

 


	3. Of Past and Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT EDIT. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE TMNT FRANCHISE OR ANY AFFILIATES.
> 
> Copyright © 2017 Antonia G. Reyes All Rights Reserved.
> 
> { } = Flashback Story Sequences Bold = Hamato Yoshi Non-Bold = Everyone else Non-Italics = Raphael Italics = Y’Gythgba 
> 
> ******

**Chapter Three** : Of Past and Present

 

**Leonardo**

 

{{{{{{    On one hand, he could fully understand Papa’s intention behind the joint punishment, but on the other hand, it irritated and vexed him. No one could really accuse Leonardo of ill reputable character but as it was true of all living creatures, the blue-banded turtle had a deeply ingrained streak of possessiveness when it came to certain things in his life. His calligraphy set, his meditation candles, military based literature and his wooden training swords. However these things were on the lower end of the spectrum that attributed to his possessive nature---the number one thing he selfishly held close and defended without cause was his family and especially Raphael. When it came to the hot-headed turtle, Leonardo was obsessed.

It was very often the cause of Raphael’s frustration and their many arguments turned fights---Leonardo’s passive-aggressive attitude when he’d be out with other neighborhood kids and the guilt latent lectures he’d be subjected to were so stifling that one day years before, in a fit of rage, Raphael had run away and for four days the family was racked with indescribable distress and worry. The first night Raphael had failed to come home was met with concern but tempered with expectancy; for the impulsive red-banded turtle had developed a reputation for stealing away time for solitude and seclusion.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

The second night was the night when mild concern treaded into the territory of panic and none were more stricken with it than Leonardo. As soon as the morning of the second day of Raphael’s absence came, the feeling of unease and onus settled in the pit of his stomach breeding throughout the day a spawn of remorse, dread and anxiety. By the end, after a search party had rendered no results or clues of the second eldest’s whereabouts, the small family was left answerless and helpless. At dinner time it seemed no one had an appetite for food, all that is except for Leonardo who ate gluttonously in silence---the feeling of uneasiness weighing heavily in his heart and yet he’d also felt famished and empty—so desperate for fulfillment he’d resorted to literally stuffing his body, hoping that the substance would be enough to appease the vicious snake slithering in his stomach.

He would’ve gone like this all night, had it not been for his father’s quick action in stopping his self-destruction. The clan leader could do nothing except cradle his distraught eldest in a warm and comforting embrace that left the blue-banded turtle in tearful straits. That night he withered in pain---his body pulsating all over, his stomach in knots, suffering hot and cold flashes like fever and the nightmares only made it worse.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

On the third day in the morning, the revenge of his previous gourmandizing woke him with a start and with the little energy he had he’d scrambled out of his tangled, sweat soaked sheets and blankets, whipped the sliding doors of his and his brothers’ bedroom open with a resounding bang and vomited violently over the side of the porch.

The sound of him being sick aroused his two siblings and their father down the hall. Nearly the whole morning Leonardo was sick, relinquishing the demons out of his system while his father gently rubbed his shell soothingly. By early mid-day, the exhausted and ill turtle, having expelled all that he’d devoured the night before took to sleeping it off the whole afternoon. When he’d awoken that evening, his sapphire eyes met maroon ones---soft, nurturing and relieved. He’d smiled at his drowsy brother and placed the book he’d been reading down beside him.

“Hey Leo, how are you feeling? Do you want some water—here, Papa left me in charge so I have to check your temperature---open your mouth please.” Before he could protest, a thermometer was thrust gently under his tongue and Donatello busied himself at the wash basin for a cool cloth to lay on the bed-ridden eldest’s forehead.

“Okay, open up---hmm---98.6--that _can’t_ be right, you were sick as a dog this morning….well, you still  look and feel clammy but I suppose if the thermal reading says you’re fine then….”

At this point Leonardo was no longer listening to his genius brother; while the purple-banded turtle babbled on, Leo was lost in a whirlwind of disillusion; another day gone and no Raphael. Sapphire eyes began to burn, he swallowed the growing lump in his throat, chest tight; he sideways glanced at his rambling brother, he looked straight ahead once more and attempted to speak.

“Where are Papa and Mikey…?” this stalled the rhetoric of the genius turtle and instantly he hesitated to say a word in response. He may daydream and occasionally suffer from obliviousness due to his extraordinarily complicated and ever inventive mind, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant. Since Raphael’s disappearance, Leonardo had been stricken with the ‘ _sickness of the heart_ ’ as his father had murmured to him in confidence---Donatello’s heart throbbed in sympathy for him---he couldn’t quite grasp the full nature of this ‘ _disease_ ’ but in time his father remarked, he would come to know it perhaps.

The olive skinned turtle frowned and bit his bottom lip, “They—they went out with another search party looking for Raph…uh, they should be back s----”

“Donnie!—Hey we’re---LEO!? You’re okay!---”the sudden appearance of the orange-banded turtle startled the edgy genius and he jumped slightly. Before he could even approach the eldest, he was stopped by the shaky tone of Leonardo’s voice, his eyes zeroed in on sky blue eyes, “Did you---” A disappointed frown answered his question. Leonardo bowed his head and then proceeded to lay back down, turning his shell to both his dejected brothers.

Donatello and Michelangelo exchanged a look and left the eldest to himself for the remainder of that evening. That night they slept by the side of their father but none were able to sleep---dreams eluded them, only the dark and cold silence emanated all around coupled with Leonardo’s heartbreaking sobs which echoed throughout the house and their souls.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

The fourth day, Leonardo was lethargic and dispirited…his eyes was red and puffy, he couldn’t bear to look at food, his stomach quivering every time his family offered him broth or even crackers. Of course, stubbornness can only hold out as long as the constitution and at this point, Leonardo’s was as fragile as glass, it was easy, with some light pestering, for Yoshi to get his son to eat some crackers and drink some tea. The rest of the day, the blue-banded brother wallowed around the courtyard, laying under the cherry blossom tree, valiantly trying to uphold his older brother and leader role by keeping an eye on his two younger brothers, even going as far as following them down the road to go hunt for bugs in the nearby forest.

In the brush of the foliage, Donatello and Michelangelo laughed and joked around—Leo meanwhile watched with heavy foot and troubled mind, ‘ _How can they be laughing at a time like this!?_ ’ he thought bitterly; his body ached and his stomach was starting to clench and swirl—he was growing dizzy from the queasiness.

As he tried to keep his brothers in his sights, he clutched his plastron and just as they were entering an open field he yelled weakly, “Do-Donnie, Mikey…let’s head back… _please_.” Donatello waved Leonardo off as he was observing a centipede on Michelangelo’s hand, “Yeah, ok—ok Leo we’re---” when  the purple-banded turtle turned to look at his older brother, his easy smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown.

Behind them, a little ways in the distance Leonardo was leaning against the trunk of a black pine, Donatello walked over to the doleful turtle, concern etched in his face. “Leo? Leo is-is it your stomach, your muscles? Here let me---”

“It feels like lead in my chest…..” sapphire eye stricken with fat tears, slowly rolling down his flushed cheeks, fretfulness lining his youthful face. Donatello felt a chill run down his spine, a nervous tightening in his chest---he was helpless; he’d never seen Leonardo so broken—in fact he can’t ever recall seeing his leader of a brother with so much as a crack. He was personified resiliency and strength and for him to come apart because of his second eldest brother—that selfish and self-centered hot-head who's lack of emotional intelligence left them all at the mercy of his frequent tantrums and indignations--it all seemed too much to bear.

Donatello didn’t even feel the hot and salty bitter tears on his cheeks until they touched his lips and hit the ground. In his contemplation, he’d failed to notice Leo crumple to his knees and bent over, the harsh cries and hyperventilating a static till he felt a frantic and scared Michelangelo tugging on his arm, tears rolling down the youngest’s cheeks as well.

Immediately the third eldest went into action, he knelt down in front of Leo’s head and directed Mickey to kneel beside the crying turtle.

“Leo, _breathe_ —come on big brother— _come on_ , breathe for me---breathe _slowly_ ” the eldest could feel the warm and soothing touches of his brothers trying to comfort him, he could hear Donnie’s even mantra to breathe…breathe… _breathe_ …

He sniffled, whimpered and coughed from lack of air traveling to his lungs but eventually, he was able to regain his composure. It was shallow and shaky and the dull, numbing pain in his already sensitive stomach began to toss and turn, he looked up pitifully at Donnie, clutching his purple-banded brother’s forearms, “Donnie…I’m….what if he _never_ returns…? It’s all my faul---“

“ _No!_ Don’t talk or think like that…he’s _fine---_ ” He pressed his forehead to Leonardo’s clammy one, rubbing his shoulders, “---the _big idiot_ is fine…just—j---” the turtle was pushed to the side hastily before he could finish his sentence for in that instance, Leonardo’s testy stomach had finally rebelled once more and the poor mint skinned turtle was leaned forward and throwing up the little bit of food and liquid he’d had earlier that morning.

The other two brothers tentatively gathered around the eldest as he expelled bile and dry-heaved, comfortingly chirping to ease the anxious sickness of their brother.

When at last the blue-banded turtle had enough strength to walk with his youngest brothers back home, the three siblings did so hand in hand, more so to act as support for Leo then for themselves. As they walked the dirt path, Michelangelo, having no desire for the quiet perked up, “When we get home Leo, we can take a nap together—you know, like when we we’re tots? That’ll make you feel better.” The orange-banded youngster’s optimism could weather any storm and shield any under its protection; for all it was worth, Leonardo nodded, a watery, weak smile on his face.

When the turtles had gotten back to the house, they were greeted to their father’s raised voice—at first they couldn’t understand why their father was yelling and as they hurried into the home and down to their father’s courters, they were met with a shocking sight.

In the room stood their father, tall and furious, the servants standing idly by incase intervention was needed and lastly, a raggedy and filthy looking Raphael. His head down and his eyes still holding their defiance.

“ **HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW SCARED AND WORRIED I WAS—HOW SCARED YOUR BROTHERS WERE?! HOW-----** ”

A solid and sudden thud broke the tension in the room which caused the clan leader to look up and to his horror found that not only had the three brotherss returned home but that Leonardo had fainted at the sight of his prodigal brother.

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All was darkness; the lanterns on the porch flickering softly in the light breeze, shadows dancing vaguely against the transparent doors of the bedroom.

The hush and whistle of his brothers sleeping to his left and to his right…emptiness. Yet, in the seeming soundlessness, Leonardo could make out the low murmurings of his father and….. _Raphael?_

The blue-banded turtle swiftly removed the futon covers and tip toed into the blackened hallway; he crept slowly, as stealthily as he could. His mind half dreary and body languid----as the mint skinned youngster reached his destination, he leaned his ear to the thin doors of his father’s study and listened.

****

“ **What was going through your mind to have possibly possessed you to stay away from your family for as long as you did?** ” Yoshi’s tone steely and severe; the red-banded turtle resisted the urge to shudder. Raphael frowned even deeper, he knew what he did was out of line…more than usual anyway.

The rat’s tail swished vigorously and his ears were drawn down, his face etched in an expression of utter disappointment and quiet furiousness. He swiftly stopped his pacing and looked harshly down at his kneeling son, “ ** _Well_ ….? Why do you not answer?**” his eyes fierce and edgy with daring.

The emerald turtle sighed dejectedly and finally locked eyes with his father, he bit briefly his bottom lip and then spoke, “Leonardo Sensei. _He suffocates me_ —his nagging and overbearing is too much. The day I left….it was _only_ meant to be for that _night_ , but our fight we’d gotten into that day….he just…made me so _angry_ and I just….his _talk_ about obligation to family…I mean…I just wanted to hang out with Kei-san and Uchiro-san Sensei! And he just….”  What else could the exasperated turtle say in his defense…? It wasn’t a _lie_ , it was the _truth_ …no matter how overspun and typical it might’ve sounded---it was true. Leonardo was Raphael’s bane of existence.

The clan leader looked away and ran his hand up and down his whisker thoughtfully; it was no secret the unnatural fixation Leonardo held for Raphael…it was… _intense_ to say the least. Yoshi was troubled by this, for he knew well the _‘aliment’_ Leonardo had, even if the blue-banded turtle did not yet…if this was the cause of Raphael’s unhappiness at home, what could a father do to lessen or do away with the source?

“ **What would you have me do then my son…? What could possibly be done to right the wrong?** ” the ninja master eyed his son carefully albeit ruefully, chocolate brown eyes simmering with lassitude.

Raphael was speechless, his chartreuse eyes conveying his surprise…he didn’t think that his tried lamentation about Leonardo’s obsessiveness would be taken seriously or even _believed_. But…..

The red-banded turtle’s eyes darted around in his head as he racked his brain for possible solutions; truth be told, he hated fighting with Leonardo to the extent they did;  how he always had to leave after every row. It wasn’t like he enjoyed roaming the streets and neighborhoods or forest until night waiting to venture back home when the fire in his soul fizzled out.

He was the self-appointed protector of the family----how could he possibly do his duty when Leo always had him in such a vice to the point of strangulation?

Raphael looked up at his father, “I can only think of one way Sensei… _reprimands_. I---I don’t want him sent away and I don’t want to be sent away, but if you could possibly see a way to…I don’t know… _reining him in_ …? Please Sensei…I just don’t know what else to do…I’m…I’m _lost_.”

The listless turtle once again casted his eyes downward and released a breath…his body sagging in true defeat.

The clan leader’s heart thrummed emphatically for his child. The rat sighed, he looked towards the doors.

“ **I see…did you hear that Leonardo?** ” at the mention of his eldest brother’s name, the red-banded turtle’s head shot up in alarm. His expression one of indignity.

The door slid open slowly, revealing the turtle in question. When Raphael stood to face his eldest brother, he’d expected some type of retaliation or counter-argument…some kind of defense from the oldest but when his eyes met the eyes of his brother, it was like ice in his veins.

Leonardo was so pale, paler than thought possible with his already mint colored scaly skin. His sapphire eyes like glass—shimmering with translucent tears, framed in an expression of utter devastation. The emerald skinned turtle swallowed the bile that threatened to come up on him…he was internally shaken, he’d never seen such a demeanor carried by Leo. This was his older brother, his ‘Fearless’ leader—the pillar of excellence and discipline.

Yoshi silently looked between the two turtles, his soul in turmoil….he released a steady breath, and he laid a hand on the shoulder of his eldest, rubbing his thumb comfortingly on the blade.

“ **Leonardo, you have heard Raphael’s reason for disappearing in the manner he did. It is the cause of his constant tribulations; it _hinders_ him. He is unhappy with the way things are. He has set his terms---** ” the rat looked over at his second oldest, “--- **and I agree with him, something must be done to remedy this issue if we are to exist in harmony with each other---as the family we are.** ”

Leonardo meanwhile kept his mouth shut, silently listening and tears running down his cheeks….he felt such humiliation…but above all else, he was unbelievably heartbroken…he felt such a betrayal and he wanted to be angry, he wanted to yell and scream at everyone. But…..

They were right. He couldn’t deny the blatantly obvious…but if he’d been given a second chance he would’ve taken greater precaution in concealing his secretive feelings for Raphael from the start…loving his brother in a different guise, curbing the amount of fighting—blaming it on ‘training’ or something other than what he did.

Now…. _now_ it was either give up on his obsession or continue and be reprimanded possibly even expelled from the only home he’d ever known? He heard Raphael state that that wasn’t something he wanted to happen but he knew himself…knew the extent of his heart’s desire…..he knew that his father would begrudgingly send him away or Raphael if it continued and that was the last thing he wanted.

So…what else was there to do but surrender his heart….?

Leonardo looked beyond his father’s face, his eyes swirling pools of indigo drowning in grief. He released a shuddering breath.

“….If it’s Raphael’s wish….” He smiled sadly up at his father’s face and then looked over at his brother and offered a watery grin. His eyes holding shocked chartreuse orbs with a pained intent.

“….you won’t have to worry about me hindering you ever again….I promise…. _I promise_.”

The three occupants stood in a gloomy silence. Why did it have to be this way….? The thought was universal…the air only lightened when Leonardo spoke timidly, “If I am not needed….may I go back to bed…?” the clan leader nodded reluctantly---he’d hopped to speak with Leonardo some more after dismissing Raphael, but…perhaps it was too soon…maybe tomorrow.

When the blue-banded turtle left the two alone, Raphael spoke, his tone panicked, “Sen—Sensei..!? I—didn’t….why did he---” the ninja master hushed his son with a pat on his cheek affectionately.

“ **Do not fret over what just transpired my boy….it is late, now---off to bed, training starts at 6 am tomorrow.** ”

The confused and dissatisfied red-banded turtle wanted to argue with his father but one look at his finite expression relayed the uselessness of that choice. He huffed and left the study, heading to the bedroom he’s shared with his brothers.

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Before entering the room, he took a calming breath and gulped, when he slid the doors open, he looked at the solitary form of the blue-banded turtle huddled alone to the right of his other two brothers, who were sprawled across each other and snoring soundly.

The display made the hot-head grin with fondness…it was good to be back home.

As he made to take his place beside his eldest brother, he was stopped by a stern and yet broken voice, “I think it would be best if you slept with Donnie and Mikey tonight.”

The emerald skinned child grimaced at that; even though he felt compelled to say something, after what happened in their father’s study, he thought better of it. Leonardo had never been in trouble before and so Raphael figured that had something to do with Leo’s statement.

“Uh…yeah, I—okay Leo…good night…” the red-banded turtle murmured, hoping to hear some reply but only received silence.

 

After that night, Leonardo had changed and no matter what Raphael or the other two brothers tried it seemed that the once light-hearted and emotive eldest had disappeared---crushed under the heavy facade of a cold and ‘perfect’ warrior they’d reluctantly come to accept.

 

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********

**Present Day**

 

     The blue-clad turtle observed from his hidden position under the cherry blossom tree as his red-clad brother and the lizard girl cleaned the porch, scrubbing in comfortable silence, unaware that they were being leered at from afar.

Leonardo watched them with practiced patience and scrutiny; between the two his sharp and deep sapphire eyes flashed like a predator’s. Leonardo frowned at the apparent ease his brother was displaying towards this _stranger_.

She was a girl, plain and simple. She was just another female like any other, like their human-snake sister Miwa, a _female_ \---what was so fascinating about her? The fact that she seemed a gifted learner and had the potential to one day become a great _anything_ was no concern of his or his family’s…so why…. _why_ was Raphael _gawking_ at her?

The blue-clad turtle could feel the old familiar pang and constriction of envy and jealousy rearing its wicked head, he frowned, his lips drawn in a thin line of displeasure and the sting of fingernails pressed against his clenched palms only seemed to fuel the fire of his enmity. In the years leading up to the present, Leonardo’s self-induced repression of his forbidden feelings towards his brother Raphael had only served to embitter and torture him in the days and nights it took to perfect the façade of, to say the least, a prude. In the time, the blue-clad turtle took to mediation, early morning training runs, cold showers and the most effective of these…nostalgia. Yes, in the privacy of shadowed corners of the house Leonardo would wallow and daydream the various ghostly figments of his memories---memories of when he and Raphael had once been inseparable, the best of friends, the best of confidants. Often after these sessions, the eldest would emerge drained of any seeming emotional energy, face frozen in a cross between melancholy and tranquility, his eyes glazed or misted over but void of tears.

Voices broke Leonardo from his reverie and when he looked up, he found that Raphael and Y’Gythgba had started a floor cleaning race. The snickering and laughing emanating from their direction made the blue banded turtle’s eyes and cheeks burn; he swiftly and quietly rose from his place behind the cherry blossom tree and disappears into the far part of the house, not to be seen until later that night.

 

****

It seemed that with each passing minute he was around this… _girl_ , that his heart would threaten to cease; she was so…so unlike any of the other girls of the city or town. While the females he knew would be more concerned with what outfit they would wear that day, the latest designs they would do their hair or what have you, Y’Gythgba didn’t appear to share in that trait.

“ _Come on sai wielder---I guess it’s true what they say---turtles really are the slowest of them all!!!_ ” the little Salamandrian laughed as she skirted past the preoccupied turtle. Raphael growled, wide-eyed and inner fire blazing at the taunt. “Oh you asked for it!” before the lizard girl could react, the red-banded turtle was coming up fast on her right and she could feel her heart leap with excitement and surprise as they were fast approaching the far corner of the wrap around porch and at the sharp turn, Raphael, in his zeal had leaned into the mango golden-eyed lizard, causing her to lose her footing and in the process crash through the doors with a resounding thud. Once Raphael had reached the end of the path, he jumped up in triumph, cheering and grinning.

“ _Yes!_ Who’s the slow one _now_ —ay Y’Gyth--?” in mid-sentence, the emerald turtle’s smile dropped, his eyebrow ridges furrowed in confusion and then when he saw the huge hole and broken wood at the end of the hall, his eyes widened in shock, “— _What!?_ \---Hey—hey Y’Gythgba! Hey!” the red-banded turtle rushed over to the fallen Salamandrian’s aid, wedging through the remainder of the obliterated door and collapsed next to the prone form of the girl. His nerves and blood running unusually cold at the sight, his chartreuse eyes darting and analyzing every spec of the her body for wounds or blood.

He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and spoke, “H-hey come on—Y’Gythgba get up, _wake up_ …” a slight groan emerged from the dazed girl’s lips, her eyes flickering barely; Raphael’s spirits lifted and he continued to speak at her while simultaneously waving his hand in a fanning motion to circulate air to further arouse her from her stupor.

The Salamandrian continued to barely flicker her eyelids and hum in obliviousness, it was in that moment she motioned weakly for Raphael to come closer with a wave of her hand. Raphael, in genuine concern did as she beckoned without reproach. As he lowered his face to hover inches from hers, Y’Gythgba turned her head slightly, opening her eyes, hooded, she smirked up at him, “ _Isn’t the Prince supposed to awaken his Princess with a gentle kiss on the lips…?_ ” she murmured teasingly.

 

 A moment of silence passed between the two children and then in one instant, the red-banded turtle’s chartreuse eyes flashed with embarrassment, his cheeks burning red, “Y-YOU---WHAT!? ARGH!!” the flustered turtle pushed up from the floor gracelessly and proceeded to march back the way he came when a hand on his forearm stopped him. He swiftly turned his head to glare at the now standing Salamandrian, “ _Hey-hey! It was a harmless jest, don’t get mad._ ” Y’Gythgba feigned bashfulness but inside she was laughing, they both stared each other down, Raphael harshly knocking her grasp off his forearm in a huff; the lizard girl sighed, put her hands up in surrender, “ _Okay, look—I’m sorry. Friends again?_ ” Y’Gythgba lifted up her bent arm, waiting for the red-clad turtle’s response.

 He narrowed his eyes and pouted but then he humph-ed and begrudgingly offered up his own bent arm to her. Y’Gythgba smiled and Raphael pouted even deeper, paused and then punched the lizard girl’s arm, making the Salamandrian wince breathlessly. Raphael smirked, “Yeah. Friends.” He remarked as he walked passed the stunned girl to retrieve the hand brushes that they’d used to clean the floor. All the while, Y’Gythgba, albeit somewhat sore from her crash, trailed behind, mango golden eyes shining with amusement, mirth and a lightness in her soul she’d never experienced before.

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**Y'Gythgba**

 

{{{{{{{  From as far back as she could remember, Y’Gythgba had always been a quiet, contemplative and introverted sort. It was most apparent when her parents sent her off to pre-schooling; the little lizard girl wasn’t like the other children; usually Salamandrian offspring were extroverted, energetic in an almost manic sense and in some cases overtly mischievous as to the kind of destructive behavior they could get themselves into. It was because of this unavoidable stage of development in the Salamandrian genetics that lead to the establishment of the modest but efficient military academy that all adolescent youth mandatorily attended to commence their middle and high school education within the structure of discipline to temper the natural ‘wild blood’ within the race.

 In Y’Gythgba’s case, she’d been born the only female child within an already rambunctious family of loud and boisterous males. In any case, it was both a blessing and a curse for the little girl. She may have been birthed into a world of ruckus with a meek spirit—at first glance---but it was also her cross to bear, for she’d been the target of many a malicious taunt and beating from her peers. Initially her family deduced that Y’Gythgba’s reserve was due to a case of late-bloomer-ism and they’d quietly hoped that as she grew and reached the age of a primary student that the ‘wild blood’ would awaken in her as it had her brothers. What happened instead was something altogether surprising and chilling at the same time.

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It had been in the eve of fall. A cruel act dealt out of jealously for the oldest Seizas boy, N’Geara by the neighborhood bully W’Kal; he’d come to the Seizas home unannounced to pick a fight and in this fight, W’Kal had mercilessly slashed N’Geara on his arm and tail, leaving the child bleeding liberally and in blinding pain. It was a dirty, dishonorable trick to pull in a ‘fist to fist’ fight, but then again W’Kal was a tyrant and as one would know, tyrants haven’t a head or sense of honor.

As N’Geara was valiantly trying to fend off W’Kal’s punches and kicks and those of his fellow cronies, out of the blue, there was a raging roar, a flash of livid blue and mango gold. As the injured and woozy N’Geara fought exhaustion, all his eyes managed to catch glimpse of was a figure viciously clawing and punching a screeching W’Kal and the frightened looks the bully’s friends exchanged before they ran off the Seizas estate in fear, then all went black.

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When N’Geara woke that evening, he was greeted to the sight of his worried mother at his bedside who was caressing his bandaged arm. When the boy stirred, his mother’s eyes brightened and melted with relief. “You’re awake! You were asleep for most of the day, come—sit up, easy now, I’ll get you something to eat.” She nuzzled her nose against her son’s head, inhaling his scent and with a sigh of ease she left the room to fetch food.

When his mother came back, she was accompanied by his father—his face etched in worry and his little sister, Y’Gythgba, shoulders slumped and head bowed. He would remember years later, thinking how odd the sight was—for he could never remember his sister ever being anything if not the ‘angel’ of the family.

His father walked over to his son, scanned his wounded body, and then he sat in the chair his mother had occupied moments before, he smiled ruefully but it held in it a deep tenderness, his eyes soft and simmering, he leaned in and held his son against his chest for a time in silence, breathing in his scent—for among the Salamandrians this was a gesture of affection as well as familial bonding.

“Papa, I am okay, really…but, the last thing I remember was…some---someone beating W’Kal…badly…was, was it J’Fal or…?” his parents shared a look of apprehensiveness, Y’Gythgba seemed to be shrinking in front of his eyes. N’Geara furrowed his eyebrow ridges and looked his parents straight in their eyes, “ _What happened?_ ” he said with conviction; Kal’Geela sighed and then spoke, “None of your brothers were in or around the house when you and the Lon boy were fighting…the figure you saw was your _sister_ …” at the mention, the Salamandrian Commander beckoned his youngest to come forth and stand at her big brother’s bedside. The little girl looked unimaginably small in comparison to the father’s stature, all the while N’Geara is emotionally and mentally reeling at the revelation—it was…it was so _unbelievable_ ; that his baby sister—meek and waif-like would or _could_ transform into the vicious attacker he’d seen before he’d succumbed to unconsciousness.

The young adolescent stared hard at his now slightly trembling sister, huddled in between two concerned and surprised parents, N’Geara’s emotions were in straits; it was between wallowing in self-pity and embarrassment for having been ‘saved’ by his little sister, angry at her for interfering and possibly putting herself in danger or….N’Geara’s heart ached, Y’Gythgba was now weeping quietly, her eyes downcast and cheeks red like geena berries. In the greater scheme of things, the young lizard boy supposed that this development was a step in the right direction, albeit not in the manner in which it emerged but still a sense of somber relief was shared. Due to this event, it was now clear that they would hopefully no longer have to constantly worry for Y’Gythgba’s future—she’d proven to some extent that she could defend and ward off threats and for the Seizas family it was like a beckon of hope.

N’Geara supposed that if he should feel anything, it was shame; shame for initially thinking lesser of himself because a female came to his aid and in retrospect projecting the assumption that females were the lesser among the males. In truth, Salamandrian women were known for being even braver and far more ruthless than their counterparts and yet they shared a duality of also being the backbone and nurturers of their clans. He looked at Y’Gythgba’s little clawed hands and could still see traces and flecks of dried blood; he looked at his parents—how they cooed and trilled to quiet her whimpering. She was their baby, their child---they were full of remorse, fear of repercussion, proud of her action…..

The young lizard cast his eyes downward, a twinge of reserve pressing on his heart; in time he would hopefully regard this day as a day of pride---pride for a little sister’s ‘graduation’ into primary adolescence, whom at one time he’d feared would be at the mercy of the outside world.

N’Geara looked up once more and urged Y’Gythgba to his side; the silent girl, her cheeks red and wet, feebly walked over to her big brother’s bed. She looked down, waiting for his undoubted reprimand. Instead she was met with the gentle pat and rubbing on her head, she chanced a look up and something inside her warmed. N’Geara tiredly smirked, “Thank you Iggy…thank you for _saving_ …me.”

Y’Gythgba smiled then and it was once more like the air had thinned and lifted within the household. She laid her hands on top of N’Geara’s, brother and sister sharing the comfortable silence between them. “Now go with Mama and take a bath! You still have blood stains on your hands and skin.”

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After that day, the Seizas expected that Y’Gythgba would join her brothers in their mischievous and renegade play but on the contrary, the little female’s behavior did not undergo any drastic change, rather, she’d only mildly expressed an interest in the lively conversations her brothers had amongst themselves--of catching bugs and small mammals, fishing and shooting arrows up at the sky and then running around maniacally out of the trajectory of the arrow’s improbable downfall. To her greatest effort, Y’Gythgba found herself more confused than fascinated with their antics; what fun was there in shooting arrows up into the sky and then running about like a lunatic? She’d asked this one afternoon as the family all sat for lunch overlooking the courtyard.

“Why not?” was the simple answer E’Gari gave rhetorically, he was the third and by far the spunkier of his two eldest brothers. Y’Gythgba’s eyebrow ridges knitted together in frustration, “ _But…but that’s ridiculous. It’s a waste of time and arrows and_ \---“

“Oh what would _you_ know? _Little Miss Meek_ whose always clasping Mama’s skirts and hidden behind a nursery book?”

E’Gari, J’Fal and…N’Geara erupted into laughter, as the young girl stewed in her embarrassment fighting off tears. It wasn’t so much the taunt of her third eldest brother that hurt her but the fact that her oldest brother N’Geara was sitting right next to them and laughing right along with them! At one split second their eyes locked and for a moment Y’Gythgba could see the blatant guilt in his eyes. She knew why he was doing it, to keep face, to not be the butt of their jokes—oh how easily they would joke and jeer the eldest over being saved by their _meek_ little sister?! No one was making an effort to silence their incessant jollity, she felt utterly betrayed and…and _angry_.

The air in the room was growing tense, Kal’Geela frowned, he spared a look at his wife---A’Malia sat in a veil of stone; bless her, she was no stranger to independent thought and defense, but above all else, she believed in honor and loyalty. On their wedding day, she’d pledged to be his backbone and support regardless of circumstance. Kal’Geela could tell it was taking all her inner strength not to berate their sons’ disreputable behavior, her knuckles white from being clutched tightly, her usually serene features now hard and indifferent but her eyes betraying a mother’s heart. He himself was struggling against his over-protective fatherly instinct---usually when any of their children bickered they immediately would admonish and put them in their place, always reminding them that all they had was each other and that without familial love they were nothing. But because of the emergence of Y’Gythgba’s ‘wild blood’, they begrudgingly agreed to be lenient when it came to their three eldest sons’ occasional bouts of teasing against their sister. She had to learn to defend herself in all areas of life, even in the case of childish insults.

“ _Fine. Then show me why it’s so much fun._ ” The laughter slowly died down to a murmur, the statement taking the boys by surprise as well as the parents. E’Gari scrutinized his sister, “What—what do you mean?”

Y’Gythgba’s eyes glassy from unshed tears but burning with impertinence, “ _You heard me E’Gari, you all did---tomorrow you will show me what’s so amusing about shooting arrows in the sky and running around like complete idiots._ ” And with that final word, the little girl rose from her seated position and left the room.

A heavy silence filled the air, the three boys between each other and the parents resuming their eating.

J’Fal looked between his speechless brothers, “Uh—did I just hear what I think I did?” Silence, E’Gari looked torn between utterly annoyed and flabbergasted, “No, you heard it--- _we all heard it_ J’Fal! But- _but_ she’s— _she’s_ —Dad, Mom! You’re not going to _allow_ her to---“

“And _why not_ E’Gari? I seem to recall teaching you three the basics of archery when you were knee high! Isn’t that right my love?” Kal’Geela smirked at his wife feigning nonchalance, A’Malia took a drink from her cup before smiling sweetly and replying, “ _Oh yes!_ I remember _quite vividly_ \---in fact, I seem to recall _E’Gari_ how _you_ wailed and whined when you were merely _grazed_ by the _feathered tip_ of the arrow---and that was _before_ you even learned to shoot it!”

At this quiet snickering overcame the two eldest brothers, much to the chagrin of the third. Kal’Geela laid a hand on his son’s shoulder, he smiled, “Y’Gythgba will be fine my boy, all you three need to do is guide her in the ways of these _skills_ …she may be quiet but she is far from the meek mino she once was. You will see.”

 

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And they did see.

The next day they gathered outside in the courtyard, the three boys somewhat sour-faced and indignant. Y’Gythgba however was bright-eyed and determined, awaiting a lesson in ‘ _arrow-dodging_ ’ as they called it.

“ _Well, how do you play the game?_ ” the question innocent in nature, still stung at the side of the brothers—before this, the act of running around aimlessly to avoid arrows seemed fun—now with an onlooker questioning its purpose, it suddenly seemed to come to their attention how _truly imbecilic_ it all seemed. However, being the stubborn males they were, they would never admit that to their sister---so, as most boys do, they enacted an empty air of authority and turned to face their sister.

E’Gari spoke first, “It is not just a simple game Iggy, it takes tact, cunning and skill…” the two oldest shared a look of hopelessness….E’Gari, ever the dramatic actor, ‘demonstrated’ in an overly complicated display of maneuvering the bow, arrow and stances, exemplifying the manner in which to aim and dispel the arrow into the sky.

It would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t for the overwhelming nervousness the two eldest were exhibiting, though they were no less guilty for teasing their sister, they never meant to provoke her to this degree of daring—more so N’Geara out of anyone. He’d failed to tell his two brothers of the incident two days beforehand and practically begged his parents not to either, so unbeknownst to the other two, he alone knew the unpredictability of their sister’s newly awoken penchant.

 

“Now you repeat what I did.” E’Gari handed over the bow and arrows, he stood back to watch, a smug smirk on his face. He deliberately made the task to appear more difficult than it was, in hopes that it would deter the young girl. Y’Gythgba saw through the rouse the instant it began and she did indeed have it in her right mind to flat out walk away—in the past she would have, but now--- _now_ she was filled only with a desire to answer the challenge, it reverberated in her blood and so she maneuvered the bow up towards the sky, her stance ridiculous but in the back of her mind, she had a plan all her own. She inhaled the cool air and exhaled mist while simultaneously letting loose the arrow straight up into the overcast clouds and without missing a beat she released two more arrows, albeit somewhat shakily seeing as it was her first time but none the less, the innate talent had been there, an untapped power that had been waiting to be harnessed.

The three brothers had no time to drag her away from the fast whistling arrows coming back down, intent on impaling there sister, they shouted at her but she heard nothing, only the rhythmic beating of her heart as she swiftly leaped in the air for the first arrow landing in a tumble and then repeating the action twice more—altogether catching every arrow she’d shot up into the face of the sky. She heaved a heavy breath, had obtained some cuts and scrapes and her clothes were covered in dirt and torn in some places but despite this, she rose to full stature and walked over to her dumbstruck brothers, dropping the arrows at their feet, one by one.

A triumphant smile graced her face, “ _Now I see why you like this game so much---it is fun…but my way is better, don’t you think big brothers?_ ”

Without missing a step she walked back towards the house, and as she did it seemed the spell broke over the three boys; while J’Fal and E’Gari stared at the ‘magic’ bow and arrows before them, N’Geara’s eyes followed the retreating form of his sister; he could tell she was going to develop a temporary limp just by the way she leaped around the courtyard and the way she was favoring her left leg, _but_ …he’d never been more impressed.

“That— _that_ …E-E’Gari, how—how did she…?”

E’Gari was confusingly examining the arrows; when N’Geara spoke, one didn’t have to see the smile on his lips, it could be heard in his voice. “Well brothers, I think she just created a more innovative way to play this game… _don’t you think so E’Gari_?”

E’Gari tensed at the eldest’s tone, he glanced at his brothers and then averted his eyes with a haughty pout on his lips, “Well…it wasn’t the _right_ way to play the game….”

 

{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

After that day, Y’Gythgba gradually implemented herself within her big brothers’ circle and as she grew, they taught her everything they’d been taught--every new challenge, with patience and astuteness she mastered. Soon it became apparent that the insatiable thirst for gallantry and combat ventured over into her beloved pastime of literature. Where once she’d been content to read about botany and nursery rhymes, she now sought out and devoured hungrily the writings of Sun Tzu, Mata ’Bai, Shimada Hanzo, Fal’Ibayu Ha---she delighted in philosophy, Zeno of Citium, Avicenna, Thomas Aquinas, Plato, Socrates, Confucius, Paul of Tarus and Mar’Islan philosophy being among her favorites. Poetry and fiction found a special place in her heart; in the morning she’d leisurely nibble away at folklore and tall-tales, for lunch she’d savor the poetics of Rumi, Hafez, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz and at dinner time, she’d devour Epics.

Though she had been nourishing her mind with literature, it left much to be desired in the realms of her spirit. She believed that the soul encompassed its own identity—it was the immortal and divine piece of herself that belonged to the Universe and she also knew well that her heart was filled with the necessity of life—love, loyalty, honor and courage. Yet…she was plagued by uncertainty; it had never occurred to her as to the future she would have—the path she would choose after she too, graduated from the militant academy.

What was her purpose?

Would she become a wife and mother?

An ambassador like her father?

A teacher like her mother had once been?

These were the questions that kept her up throughout the night, when the darkness gathered the earth in its cool embrace, it was one of the only times she’d ever truly felt the rush of anxiety and fear of the unknown.

 

{}}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

 

******

**Present Day**

 

More often than not, Y’Gythgba found herself in a perpetual state of daydreaming; she’d never been accused of being transparent or superficial in thought and manner but often she’d found herself drifting off and in between reality and theoretical future. Her ‘ _future_ ’ was still undecided; not even all the books filled cover to cover with all the oldest and greatest knowledge could relieve the weight of such an impending choice.

Seeking some much needed distraction and change of scenery, she’d asked her father if she could accompany him on this trip—Kal’Geela had obliged for he was well aware of the internal dilemma his daughter was facing; he too at one time had gone through the same struggles.

He had also granted her request because of her impending departure to the military academy where, currently his three eldest sons were studying at.

 

*******

The long hours passed in chores and training; in play and mealtimes. As the sun set and the majority of the Hamato family and guest had retired to a cooler part of the house to relax and converse, two young children sat in comfortable silence as they indulged on watermelon slices. At one point Raphael had egged the lizard girl into a watermelon seed spitting contest to which Y’Gythgba was helpless to resist.

As the two spat the black seeds across the yard, spittle trailing and dribbling down their chins and staining their clothes, they laughed and joked—nearly choking on the sweet pink flesh of the fruit.

Raphael couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a day; a day free of stress, squabbles or lectures. At the same time, as he sat on the porch with this strange and yet intriguing creature beside him, he could only recall one other time he’d shared such a peaceful moment in his life. That time, it had been with his big brother Leo….

 

“ _Awww---you’ve beaten me! Raphael, you---_ ”, the smirking Salamandrian paused in her congratulations when she looked up and found that the young red-clad turtle was no longer grinning smugly and now wore a face wrought in melancholy. She walked silently back to her place next to the somber turtle, finishing up her last slice of fruit and spitting the seeds out into her hand, leaving them on the plate next to her side. The silence stretched for what seemed hours, though it was merely only a few minutes.

“ _Is it a fairly painful memory…?_ ”

Raphael blinked out of his reverie and cocked his head at an angle, not daring to look the lizard girl in the eye for fear she would catch sight of the unshed tears threatening to fall. He grunted, straightened and pressed his lips into a thin line. He opted to nod his answer rigidly.

Y’Gythgba’s heart twitched at this admission for some reason, but she ignored it, casting her mango golden eyes anywhere but at Raphael.

“ _Hmm…I—I know that feeling…I almost killed my big brother’s bully when I was just four._ ”

This response was not the remark he was expecting to come out of the girl’s mouth, the red-clad turtle’s eyes widened and his mouth slightly agape. Y’Gythgba glanced over at the boy and tutted, a sad smile painted her lips; she moved her chin in an upward motion nod, tilted her head and sighed.

“ _It was during fall…I was in the house reading…._ ” And just like that, Y’Gythgba began her story, Raphael fully attentive to the lizard girl’s recollection. In turn, he found himself repaying the Salamandrian with the story of when he’d ran away from home after a heated fight with his eldest brother Leonardo and how he’d stayed away for four days—he’d shared every detail of the event, all the while his mind was screaming at him to shut his mouth, demanding an explanation as to why he had so easily relinquished such sensitive and private memories to a total stranger. Aside from being the self-proclaimed protector of his family, Raphael had always been an ultra-secretive and private individual who guarded his thoughts, memories and desires within the iron confines of his heart. He loved his family and believed in the relinquishing of specified information if it was crucial to aiding his brothers and father but otherwise, everything that was non-essential to ninjitsu or the welfare of the clan, he kept under metaphoric lock and key.

However, for the life of him, he’d hadn’t the slightest idea as to why this girl seemed to invoke such an affect on him. The mere sight and proximity of her person caused his skin to tingle and his stomach to flip-flop and he was only able to deal with these foreign emotions by constantly engaging the lizard girl with games and challenges as methods of distraction—entertainment that was too rough for his brothers but seemed to be perfect to Y’Gythgba. She had proven in just the second day that she was a worthy rough-houser and he found that to be refreshing from an opposite gender perspective. At the very least, the fairer sex had never appealed to Raphael long enough to see the potential of their significance. He was prone to annoyance just as easily as he was to his short temper--- _girls_ , with their unremitting and irrational sensitivities to anything and everything exasperated the red-clad turtle to no end. He’d learned long ago that it was best to leave the females to their own devices and keep to himself. Now though, he was starting to think he’d been too quick to judge and rule out the entire female equivalence.

******

“ _Have you talked to your brother about this…? The way his distance makes you feel?_ ” the question was sincere but in true Raphael fashion he tsked and scoffed, his chartreuse eyes glowering at nothing in particular.

“Why should I? _He’s_ the one who decided to go all _‘lone wolf’_ on us… _he’s_ the one who’s holding on to a grudge, _not me_ …!”

In his mind, the answer sounded mature and justified, but hearing his voice speak the words out loud—he grimaced--- they just sounded like the whining of a stubborn and insensitive brute.

Y’Gythgba’s facial expression said it all, she was hardly surprised or even peeved, she just looked sympathetic. For this reason alone, Raphael’s anger flared; he glared daggers at her, a low growl in his throat.

“Don’t go looking at me like that! I don’t need your _pity_ \---I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this…!”

The hot-headed turtle sprung to his feet and stomped his foot into the hard, dirt ground—rubbing the tips of his toes into the earth, attempting to rub the watermelon seeds into dust.

Y’Gythgba frowned, “ _I don’t pity you Raphael---I’m merely sympathizing with you….it’s hard to open up to others about feelings...but sometimes, without our minds realizing it, our hearts are the ones who call out for help._ ”

This stopped the red-banded turtle in his action, he looked over his shoulder at the young Salamandrian, “… _it’s not good to keep emotions bottled up...you do and sooner or later they will erupt into a storm you cannot control_ ….” Y’Gythgba held Raphael’s gaze firmly, “… _and in time, the storm will destroy everyone you love and you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself._ ”

With the last word, the young girl step up onto the porch and stretched, picked up the plate of seeds and imparted one final, hard gaze at Raphael and then silently retreated into the house, leaving the wayward turtle to contemplate the weight of her words.

Another day gone, only for a third one to begin anew.

 

 

 


	4. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT EDIT. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THE TMNT FRANCHISE OR ANY AFFILIATES.
> 
> Copyright © 2017 Antonia G. Reyes All Rights Reserved.
> 
> Bold = Hamato Yoshi Non-Bold =Everyone Else 
> 
> Italics = Y’Gythgba 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains mentions/allusions to suicide.  
> Read at your own risk.
> 
> ******

**Chapter Four** : Revelations

 

When he woke the next morning, the sunlight trickling through his bedroom sliding door blinded his vision. The momentary sightlessness was accompanied by the faint sound of giggling and lively chatter in the distance. In a start, Raphael rose, his body not yet fully awake, he clumsily reached the doors and slid them open with a dull thud.

The strong scent of sea air, pine and chrysanthemums enveloped him, overwhelming his senses to such a degree that he sneezed and coughed. The sound, punctuated by the relative silence, resulted in the owners of the aforementioned gaiety halt in their jubilation.

“ _OH! Good morning heavy sleeper!_ ” Y’Gythgba.

“Hey Raph, nice to see you up— _finally!_ ” Donatello.

“Raphie! Raphie—come plant flowers with us!” Michelangelo.

 

The red-banded turtle sighed as he wiped the drowsiness and pollination spores out of his face and nose. “Yeah, yeah…! Not so loud, I’ll be there in a minute.” He groused out as he made his way over to the bath to wash up for the day.

*****

As the emerald turtle splashed the fresh and cool well water on his scaled face, he took in a calming breath and held it in, relishing the earthy scent of water---the most understated scents like earth, burning wood and smoke had always been favorites of his---subtle and yet surprisingly comforting. He never cared much for the artificial fragrances of perfumes, colognes or overtly flowery accents which punctuated both the courtyard grounds of his home and the females who could afford the expensive attribute.

Finishing his cleaning routine, the red-banded turtle exited the washroom and paused outside the door, a towel around his neck; he could not help the sudden burst of warmth that spread throughout his body and the tingles from head to toe.

There she was, laughing heartily, piggybacking a squealing Mikey and carrying what looked like an intellectual conversation with Donnie. She seemed unperturbed by it all---the youngest’s zany energy and zeal or his genius brother’s long-winded lectures. She seemed…so at home….the emerald skinned child smiled, his eyes soft and calm.

As he approached the trio, his mind wondered to the conversation he and the Salamandrian girl had had yesterday…he frowned, his heart thumped uncomfortably---his mind swirled with countless scenarios that could happen and all of them ended badly. The relationship he had with his big brother—if one could call what they have a relationship---was tense at best but virtually stable---they hardly fought and true to his word all those years prior, Leonardo hardly if never interfered with his choices and activities again. To the outside world looking in it seemed that everything was ideal and ‘ _perfect_ ’, but….Raphael sigh dejectedly, he longed for the once close comradery he’d shared with the blue-banded turtle in their primary hood. He yearned for the closeness of an elder brother and above all else, he desired his brother’s _true_ self---not the masked fiend that took his place. The Leonardo that the three brothers had come to accept was a stone cold fraud, parading around in their brother’s skin, speaking empty and self-righteous words with his tongue and slowly tainting his soul.

If he were stronger, braver, then maybe…maybe he could have prevented all this earlier, but the seduction of freedom from under the thumb of his overbearing older brother had blinded him to the ramifications---a life for a life, as they say. In order for Raphael to have the space, he so coveted, Leonardo, ever the noble and self-sacrificial lamb, surrendered the only priceless treasure he had, his love and therefore his heart. By the time the thrill had gone and all returned to some semblance of mundanity, Leonardo had already been in the early stages of transitioning. Raphael had initially sensed the impending danger such a task would endow, but the fear of possibly returning to a life of suffocation had deterred the emerald turtle from saying a word to their father or Leonardo himself.

 

Perhaps…had he not been such a coward, then maybe Leonardo would’ve been spared the eternal torment Raphael knew he underwent every day of his life. The red-banded turtle cringed, his eyes stung, his heartstrings twinge painfully…..it had all been his fault in the end. All his fault.

*******

As the bubbly orange-banded turtle chirped in glee as Y’Gythgba bounced him on her back and the purple-banded turtle was passionately explaining the important benefits of fertilizer mixed with bone meal and crickets the livid skinned lizard spared a glance to see if Raphael was coming to join them. What she saw instead had the easy smirk and light-heartedness suddenly dropping from her person, only to be replaced with a concerned frown and rapidly beating heart.

As she gently lowered Michelangelo onto the ground, she made a beeline towards the emerald turtle who’d been standing in the middle of the courtyard, unbeknownst to himself of his sudden lack of motor function.

Mango golden eyes scrutinized, Y’Gythgba laid a clawed hand on the turtle’s shoulder, faintly rubbing her fingers on his carapace. This seemed to arouse the morose turtle out of his hurricane thoughts, he looked up and blinking but it failed to ward off tears which threatened to fall.

“ _What’s happened….?”_ Was all the Salamandrian girl had to murmur before the floodgates fell and a wave of miserable tears spilled from his burning chartreuse eyes, his face hot with embarrassment and shame. Y’Gythgba was at a loss…she felt unequipped to comfort a fellow peer….in her experience, it had always been either her parents who prescribed the comfort---she’d never been had a chance to bestow such care on another.

The lizard child swallowed the nervousness and awkwardness, the feeling of it sliding down her throat excruciatingly slow and agonizing.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t fail…she didn’t want to let her friend down…she just wanted to help….she _needed_ to help…she had to….

 

As Y’Gythgba lead the sobbing turtle to sit down on the dirt, she kept silent, allowing the emerald skinned youngster to cry, sitting across from him, the livid skinned child dug into her scarf and pulled out two sesame seed buns and some slices of salted beef. She softly patted the weeping turtle’s hands to get his attention. When he met her eyes, all he saw was empathy and apprehension, she smiled weakly and nudged him to take what was in her hands.

“ _Eat. It’s bad luck to fill an empty stomach with sorrows…at least, that’s what my Mama says…”_

Without a word, the distressed turtle took the food, slowly nibbled at the beef which then turned into taking large bites out of the sesame buns and chewing them gradually, but also growing sadder which then lead to even more tears and whimpering.

All the while, Y’Gythgba was knelt in front of him, rhythmically rubbing his back affectionately in the manner she remembers her parents doing to her.

*******

The sun was like a dull bee sting on Y’Gythgba’s skin. Native to a country with a kaleidoscope climate, the heat of the sun was no stranger to her but she could never remember being as remotely aware of its heavy caress as she was here in this eastern land. Perhaps the reason for her sudden awareness was because of the incident that had taken place an hour ago with Raphael. As she picked and pruned some adolescent bonsai trees and hydrangeas with Donatello, her mind wandered off in appraisal. Since she’d been here and since her initial confrontation with the volatile red-banded turtle, she attested to the fact that quite possibly, his mesmeric personality and emotions were somehow vamping off her own impassioned senses, drawing them out and exposing them. As a result, the aftermath of the drain left her in such a somnolent minded state that she lacked even the most basic energy to project an impervious shield of tolerance around her body from the elements.

Though she believed this reasoning to be true, she suspected that deep down she was encouraging the action.

As she tied the modest bouquet of blue-lavender-lilac ombre hydrangeas with twine, she lifted the delicate, satin soft flower bulbs to her nose and inhaled a hefty aroma of silk and rain. She smiled lightly and exhaled calmly; just a head of her amongst the shrubbery and trees Donatello stood. He was observing a butterfly that had perched itself on the edge of a bush and silently sketching the small creature, fascination and curiosity dancing in his maroon eyes. To the right of her, she watched in content silence as Michelangelo frolicked amongst the garden. The orange-banded turtle laughing and yelping as he valiantly grabbed at ladybugs and dragonflies, the pond water dampening his clothes with each splash he made as he leaped about. The sea green youngster was like wind--uplifting, flighty and versatile. Donatello was a disciple of natural science; believing in a world governed mainly by nature and little by faith. He was the third child within the quartet of terrapins yet it did not diminish his presence amongst the four as it would in most familial settings. Unlike normal sets of children, the genius in training possessed skills that were of value to the society and progression. He had the foresight as expected of most intellectuals. All three brothers offered something beneficial to the world—Raphael was a warrior, the world was formed in war and therefore it would always need defenders of great will to protect the masters of vision. Michelangelo was an artistic type, as with warriors so shall there be the storytellers and preservers of history of which the youngster would be. Donatello is the inventor and salvager of the masses and paves the way for generations towards the future. All three accounted for and one still left to mystery...

Y’Gythgba frowned slightly as her wandering eye spotted the solitary figure of the elusive blue-banded turtle, Leonardo. He was wearing a wide brimmed amigasa, the straw fibers so tightly braided that it gave the impression of well-spun fabric. Though she had not had the pleasure to make better acquaintance with the oldest of the clan, she suspected that the sword wielder in training was not fond of her. It would make since, the strangely eerier and vindictive aura that exuded from the turtle was so imposing that it stretched like massive tentacles around her and would jab or pinch at her when she least expected it.

As she observed the terrapin, her mango golden eyes knitted in confound-meant—what had she done to remedy this undeserved hostility? Y’Gythgba could feel the itching in her brain begin, she sighed exasperatedly and averted her gaze, it was both blessing and curse to be an intuitive introvert. It could get very chaotic in her mind before it ever got clearer in certain instantances. She huffed indignantly; she supposed it was none of her concern to worry over the matter of Leonardo. Her father told her years ago that the opinions and social pardons of others were of little consequence it the greater scheme of things.

She spared one last glance at Leonardo, smirked faintly and then walked into the house with her bundle of flowers.

*******

The peacefulness of gardening had once been a pastime of great solace from the inescapable influx of his tumultuous emotions. _Now_...now that _she_ had touched the greenery of _his_ garden, walked the steps of _his_ household, slept within the confines and on the sheets of the futon beds....

It was as if the small token of comfort he’d designated for himself had been doused in poison and set on fire---a lethal cocktail of fumes invading his lungs. As he jabbed the handheld shovel into the damp, brown earth his heart twisted with jealously and hurt. With each thrust, a sharp shock of pain snaked its way up his arm like a thousand individual needle pricks. Leonardo grimaced as his breathing constricted---he couldn’t bear this torment and yet it astounded him--to live with such a heavy and excruciating pain and yet project a facade of imperviousness.

It was soundless and mute, he was deaf to the world in this moment—he could feel his body movements and yet he was helpless to cease his motions until suddenly he was snapped out of his hypnotized state and felt the warm liquid soaking his hand. When he looked down, he was shocked to find that through his violently rhythmic jabbing of the shovel, his hand lost grip of the handle thus surging his palm into the sharp edge of the tool. Immediately he dropped the offensive instrument and stood quick and rigid, the blood thick in appearance as if he were holding a fine piece of red velvet. The next thing he knew the shouting and urging of someone beside him; when he turned his head to see whose indistinguishable voice was calling, the initial obliviousness evaporated and morphed into anger.

His unseeing sapphire eyes were suddenly clear and sharp like daggers, his disabled motor functions no longer useless. He jerked out of Y’Gythgba’s gentle grip and in the process purposely backhanded his bloodied hand across her face. The action not only staining the young girl’s face with his blood but also cutting the flesh of her cheek and lip. Disbelief passed between all that were present---Donatello, Michelangelo, Master Splinter, Ambassador Seizas and... _Raphael_.

For a split second, the blue-banded terrapin considered repentance, but when he saw how Raphael rushed over to the Salamandrian girl and tentatively touch her shoulder, concern in his eyes for the injured girl, the innate need for reprieve left Leonardo’s senses and all that resided was resentment.

“ ** _Leonardo!_ What have you done!?** ” His father’s booming words and disapproving tone meant nothing to him.

“ **I am speaking to y—** ”

“You had no _right_ to touch _me_....” It was a calm and deliberate statement. Leonardo looked hard at Y’Gythgba’s face, stained by his blood, her blood--the pink hue of a reprimanded cheek as bright to him as fire.

His eyes darted around furiously at all who were gathered, “I DIDN’T ASK FOR _ANY_ OF YOUR HELP! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE--- _LEAVE ME ALONE_...!”

He swiftly turned and ran from the courtyard out towards the street.

Immediately the spell Leonardo’s harsh words had cast were broken and Master Splinter’s face grew gaunt with a deep disturbance, he turned to his friend and Y’Gythgba, “ **I deeply apologize for Leonardo’s... _behavior_ , he---**”

Kal’Geela had to fight the urge to hiss and growl in protectiveness. He lifted his hand, his face etched in severe understanding; he could sense something more sinister under the surface. “Please Yoshi...it-it is alright—we Seizas have impeccable healing abilities—isn’t that right _mi At’La_?” The Ambassador gazed down at his daughter; Y’Gythgba held her father’s eyes and mustered an astute nod. The look of empathy was more than evident on his friend’s face and the ninja master sighed but bowed in concession. He then leveled his eyes at Donatello, the latter still in a state of confusion and upset, “ **Donatello, please grab the aid supplies and find Leonardo---bring him back home** ”. The purple-banded turtle reluctantly nodded and left the remaining adults and children. “ **Michelangelo, go along with Raphael and Miss Y’Gythgba to clean up** ”.

As the last of the brood departed, all that remained were the two adults. Master Splinter, so lost in thought did not sense Kal’Geela’s hand on his shoulder. When his ears perked at the contact, he looked at the lizard with questioning eyes.

The Salamandrian merely cracked a reserved smile, “Shall we have some tea...?” The question was left open intentionally; the ninja master resigned himself to nod futilely.

*******

Donatello often wondered disgruntledly if his older brother suffered from selective muteness. As the self-appointed medic of the family, he was no stranger to injury or sickness but it seemed, in his opinion, that whenever _Leonardo_ was faced with daunting tasks or harsh truths he seemed to shut down and retreat into himself. It had especially heightened after Raphael had come back after his four-day disappearance.

Finding the aforementioned turtle had been simple; he’d followed the blood trail, which lead him down towards the secluded beach down the ways from their estate. The blue-banded terrapin had perched himself on a moss covered rock—his sapphire eyes tempestuous and cloudy, his hand and pants smeared with red smudges.

As he gently but firmly disinfected and wrapped his brother’s injury, the purple-banded terrapin glanced up at the mint green child. His posture and demeanor betrayed nothing of his current mood. Leonardo was feverish to the touch despite the ocean breeze which seeped into Donatello’s bones making him cringe is discourse.

“Why did you follow me Donnie...?” the question was even-toned but bitter. The olive skinned child pouted, “Papa told me to find you...Leo, _why did you do that_...? Why—?”

“It’s none of your business _Donatello_ \---!” The warning tone cut deep like a blade at Donatello’s heart, he dared to look his brother in the eye and what he saw reverted him to that fourth day long ago in the forest when Leonardo had wept and confessed his fears regarding Raphael. It chilled him to the very marrow of his skeleton. He swallowed drily and released his brother’s mended hand.

“Come home Leonardo...before you get in more trouble than you already are.” With that said, the lanky turtle turned his back and proceeded on the path home.

*******

“ **He is heartbroken** ”. The statement hung heavy in the room, Master Splinter’s posture hunched and his hands almost red as he tightly held his teacup. It was a hard thing to admit and even harder to explain. The ninja master was not a rat of exhibition; he believed in modesty and tact and to even consider breaking these codes of conduct left him in shambles.

Kal’Geela studied his friend in careful silence, analyzed him; his eyes softened considerably as he regarded the events that took place. He would not presume a thing, except that he’d seen those exact eyes before; the eyes of Leonardo---a sight of one so deeply in turmoil and sick with unrequited love that it was almost lethal. It sent a shiver down his spine to recall the individual that once possessed those eyes.

The lizard gathered his nerve and reached over to grasp his friend’s hand. The gesture roused the ninja master and he looked up at the Ambassador’s face.

“Yoshi, I fear that your son’s heart is not broken at all. I am afraid that...that it is much more serious...he has repressed his heart.”

The Salamandrian held firmly the eyes of his friend and squeezed his hand, “He suffers...from the suffering will come one of two things---death in which God takes pity and saves him or...or life, in which case God have mercy on us all. For a creature without a heart of love is no more than a demon walking in the guise of sanity”.

The grave revelation of Kal’Geela left the rat master nearly shaking in utter fear...he couldn’t even remember being this afraid in his whole life. Had the lizard removed his hand from his own, Yoshi was sure he would’ve collapsed in a fit of sobs. It took him a time and several breaths to speak and as he did, he did so in a slow and methodical manner.

“ **What...what must I do? What can be done?** ”

Kal’Geela, slid his hand from Yoshi’s hand to his wrist but now lightened his grasp. He furrowed his brow bone, “‘We _can only learn to love by loving’(1)_....” the lizard looked up and smiled poignantly, “...allow him to love Yoshi...it is the only thing that will save him now.”

Yoshi released the breath he didn’t know he was holding and nodded. In silence they sat, two fathers with the most precious gifts they could give to the world. Gifts they wanted to protect from circumstances such as this but sadly knew they couldn’t.

Resigned to the matter at hand, the two men parted their hands but something had Master Splinter hesitating, he spared a look at his old friend, “ **Who was it that fell to the repressive heart...?”**

The inquiry made the Ambassador flinch but he adverted his eyes sorrowfully. “My brother...he fell in love...neither family approved and he...well, they were separated. His beloved was forced into an arranged marriage and sent away to another land...my brother was devastated. In despair he repressed his heart...self-destruction...heresy and then in prison he stabbed himself to death....”

Kal’Geela couldn’t bring himself to say anymore; even after all these years, the painful loss never dulled.

Sympathetic eyes gazed upon the distressed lizard, **“... _and_...what of his beloved?** ”

Kal’Geela composed himself, “When he heard of my brother’s passing, _he_...he shot himself.”

Master Splinter’s fur stood on end; he hesitated “ **He loved...another _male_...?** ”

Kal’Geela, too lost in his own melancholy failed to catch the shocked tone, “Yes.”

********

With tender touch, Raphael silently cleaned Y’Gythgba’s cheek. The latter sat obediently, tame and troubled. As the blood was removed, he grimaced at the fresh cut that crossed the girl’s cheek and lip—red and puffy in irritation but needing not stitches. The skin cooling to a sickly pale powder blue, Raphael suppressed a growl--it was definitely a bruise. After disinfecting and bandaging the cut, he made to do away with the soiled cloth and basin of water. Y’Gythgba grabbed the red-banded terrapin’s hand.

“ _You have to speak with your brother Raphael, you--_ ” the turtle clenched his fist in anger, his eyes narrowed.

“Oh you bet I’m going to _talk_ to him—I’m going to do _more_ tha---“

“ _No. No more animosity---TALK with him---he needs you---he’s---_ ”

“And why should I!? After _this_ \--- _!_ NO. No more words Y’Gythgba, we---”

Strong clawed fingers grabbed tightly at the hotheaded turtle’s forearm and jerked him roughly to face a fuming Y’Gythgba.

“‘One _cannot step twice in the same river.’(2)---Do not repeat the past Raphael_.” The lizard released Raphael’s wrist harshly and shoulder checked him hard as she walked past him but not before pausing at the sliding doors, turning around, and schooling him with a look of pointed scorn, “ _Mend your bridges or you will be sorry for it_.”

As Y’Gythgba stormed out of the bath area of the house, she halted at the sound of a whimper. Seeking the owner of such a sound, she wasn’t surprised to find a weepy Michelangelo hidden under his blanket in his room. The young girl frowned; she cautiously approached the sniffling child and lightly laid her hand on the covered terrapin.

The orange-banned youngster peeked his head out and looked up with watery sky blue eyes. Impossibly large and round, Y’Gythgba mustered a weak but kind smile.

“ _Michelangelo--_ ”

“M-Mikey.”  The little boy complained miserably. The lizard girl huffed a light tut, “ _Mikey...please do not cry. Your father and brothers wouldn’t want you to be sad_.”

The sea green turtle looked away forlornly as he chewed his bottom lip. Y’Gythgba watched the little turtle bite his lip and suddenly had an idea.

She feigned disapproval, “ _Ah! Don’t chew your bottom lip—don’t you know that you’ll wake up a fish if you do?_ ” She mocked a surprised face---Michelangelo stared up at her in shock, “R-really?” he uttered in fear.

The livid colored lizard hummed in matter-a-faction. “ _Oh yes! It happened to my cousin Li’Vita—she would not stop her lip chewing and one morning she woke up to lips as plump as a fish’s!_ ”

Immediately the Salamandrian puckered her lips while simultaneously pushing her tongue against the inner parts of her lips to accentuate the point of her tease.

The jest was successful and Michelangelo’s fit of giggles chimed throughout the compound.

It was the only light-heartedness had that night.

‘ _Oh what a day this has been_ ’—Y’Gythgba thought dejectedly as the little terrapin snuggled close to her, his snores the only sound in an otherwise empty courtyard.

*******

Leonardo did not return until the next morning but unlike Raphael, Master Splinter did not send out a search for his oldest son under the advisement of Kal’Geela. The Ambassador had bade him to allow the youngster time to himself---to reflect, to regain some composure. Begrudgingly he yielded to his friend’s suggestion.

Leonardo meanwhile had spent his lonely night in a near insomniac state, staring longingly out at the turbulent waves as they crashed against the rocks and splashed about. He walked up and down the coastline, chilled to his bones but inside burning with spite. He knew that these feelings were unwarranted, he knew that he was the perpetrator of his own misery and yet...

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to see the logic in this moment. On one hand, it was like flying...this feeling of floating in a sky of nostalgia. Memories of earlier years when he’d been free with his emotions to express in any way he felt fit.

He remembers bitter sweetly how he felt weightless and able to hold his head high. Now...because of the events that had forced him to relinquish his true nature and self he felt the weight of that betrayal on his body; little by little the proud brow of a once lively child bent to the ground and the manner of demureness took place of pride.

Leonardo cried long and hard that night. He yelled so loud and so long that his voice became hoarse and he walked for so long that his legs ached.

The last thought in his mind as he sadly gazed out at the open sea _..._ How easy it would be to fill his pockets with rocks and walk into the abyss, never suffer the pain of his heart again...how joyous that would be...

********

**The Next Day**

He awoke slowly, his clothes tinged with morning dew, sand covering him from head to toe. The sting of his injured hand jolted his weary mind back to the day before. Sapphire eyes clouded with regret...this was the undoing...he grinned weakly at the irony.

In silence, the young terrapin picked himself up, walked home sodden and resigned to his fate. He would be sent away...in this instance it would be more blessing then curse.

 

Raphael hadn’t slept the whole night. His mind raced and his stomach constricted to such a degree he thought he’d die. The red-banded turtle grimaced at the throbbing vein on the side of his head, he tightened his fists—perhaps death would’ve been more merciful.

In absence of sleep, the volatile terrapin had begrudgingly decided to heed the advice of Y’Gythgba. He spent his time thinking up some way to apologize to Leonardo, to explain to the eldest that he wanted them to be as they used to be minus the possessive and oppressive nature. He would explain to Master Splinter to lift the verbal penalty of exiling them if they crossed lines with each other. Anything to break the curse Leonardo had over him---anything to get his real brother back.

 

As the morning progressed and life around the estate arose, Raphael’s senses peaked at the slight, almost feather like sound of footsteps on the wooden porch outside his room. As quietly as he could, he slid one of the doors open and peered out. Chartreuse eyes widened in surprise when he saw a disheveled looking Leonardo making his way mutely to the bathing room.

Immediately the red-banded terrapin ran across to Leonardo’s designated pullout dour, took out fresh clothes, and headed out to the bathing room. When he slid the entrance open, the strong scent of seafoam, pine and earth hit him. He laid the clothing on a stool and just before he closed the door, he stole one lasting look at his eldest brother—the rare calm that seemed to envelop him made Raphael smile curtly before departing.

********

 

When Leonardo finished his washing, he was taken aback by the neat pile of clothing laid on the stool by the doors and found that his old wears were discarded in the dirty wash basket near the window that served as a type of ventilation system.

The terrapin slowly but stealthily left the bath and headed towards the bedroom he shared with his brothers. When he slid the doors open, he was thankful for the vacancy of the dwelling and approached his bed, only to be engulfed by the clean, crisp scent of freshly placed linens. This made Leonardo smile, for him it was the littlest of things that brought the greatest of joys, though that had changed drastically when everything came crashing down that fateful night so long ago. Now what was once a luxury was now a necessity and in some cases an escape. No day could began without lingering under the sheets of comfort just to sate an insatiable need and during those intense attacks of melancholy, the bed would be the only relief, sleeping for hours on end.

He was always tired. Tired of portraying an artificial guise of perfection. Tired of projecting empty emotions. Tired of swallowing bitterness and tears.

Leonardo sighed as he wrapped himself up in the sheets but just before he drifted off into darkness, a crunch of something gripped his attention. The blue-banded turtle lifted his pillow and found a letter.

He opened it gingerly and read:

“ _Words sharp like blades_

_Cut deep to marrow._

_Actions—running away in retaliation_

_Actions of desperation I did commit._

_In reprimand, I rebuked you_

_The pink hydrangea (3) welts its petals_

_Leafs turn yellow_

_However, it refuses to die._

_Sickness it has_

_Nevertheless, valiantly it fights on_

_Let us fight together?_

_No more will the rains come_

_Only the sunlight above._

_Let us mend the bond—I offer you_

_Forgiveness I humbly desire---please, please forgive me brother._

_\--Raphael_ ”

 

In silence, Leonardo refolded the letter and tucked it under his tatami mat. Perhaps on any other occasion the blue-banded terrapin would’ve dashed out the bedroom and sought out the red-banded turtle without a second thought—with hopefulness in his heart, ready to listen and forgive. Alas, he was too tired and still too acrimonious to bother with Raphael and his words. Perhaps after a nap he’d reconsider, perhaps his mind would be clearer.

*******

**The Next Day**

As expected, the first letter did not receive any reply and had Raphael huffing and puffing, pouting in corners with angry fat tears flowing down his heated cheeks. Embarrassed and insulted, the red-banded turtle took to venturing to the river to fish and roughhousing with the local boys. When he came home, filthy and grinning from ear to ear with five fish tied to his rod, his father sighed but greeted him warmly with a nuzzle and pat on the head.

Four fish for family, guests, and one for Leonardo. For as long as he could remember, he’d hated the bubble eyed little creeps but when Leonardo had alluded haughty in irritation, after being mercilessly teased, that he liked fish, Raphael always took it upon himself to harvest the scaly things for him.

As the rest of the family and Ambassador Seizas ate comfortably, Raphael and Y’Gythgba were in the kitchen.

Ever the curious sort, Y’Gythgba had asked what the single fish left over was for and bashfully Raphael told her that he was going to prepare some zosui soup for the eldest.

 

Y’Gythgba sat on a bench, observed in silence as the red-banded turtle boiled noodles, and chopped fresh mushrooms, carrots, green onions and tofu. As he sautéed the vegetables in sunflower oil, he descaled and cleaned the fish and then washed it. When the noodles were done, he added the cooked vegetables and then lightly fried the fish before adding it to the soup.

A minute or two passed before he finished the meal and served a modest portion in a bowl with steamed rice and hojicha tea.

“Can you come and open the door for me?” The question roused the lizard from her daydreaming and she nodded. As they walked the hallway to the bedroom, Y’Gythgba took in subtle glances of Raphael’s stature and facial expression. The determination burning in his chartreuse eyes with a hint of apprehension and fear. The way he tightly grasped the tray of food, the delectable aromas of eastern cuisine. She lightly smiled to herself and stood to the side of the door to slide it open.

However, before either child did anything, Master Splinter rounded the corner and his senses perked at the sight before him. The Yoshi smiled softly to himself before approaching the duo.

“ **Raphael—Miss Y’Gythgba...** ” Yoshi bowed slightly in respect towards the lizard child and the little girl reciprocated the gesture. The rat master then turned back to his son, “ **My son, allow me to carry the meal in for you** ”.

Raphael hesitated before he reluctantly gave up the tray to his father’s waiting hands; he frowned, he wanted to speak—ask his father if he could come in with him, but one look up at his master’s face and he knew that that would be out of the question. Wordlessly, the emerald skinned child begrudgingly walked away to join his other brothers and their guests in the main room.

*******

 

As Master Splinter stepped into the large bedroom, he spotted the eldest sitting up and leaning against the doorframe facing the garden. When Leonardo perked at the shuffling, he looked over to see his father and felt a cold chilly tingle rise up in him.

“ **I hope that your slumber was restful my son. Here---some nourishment for body and soul**.”

As Leonardo watched his father set the meal before him, he shamefully down casted his gaze...everything smelled delicious and without meaning to his stomach growled loudly which startled the both of them.

The timid mint green child blushed with embarrassment but to his surprise, the rat master chuckled warmly. “ **Well it seems someone’s stomach is quite eager for some dinner----Leonardo, please eat**.”

The blue-banded turtle looked up shyly into his father’s soft chocolate brown irises and felt some of the tension in his body desist. He hesitantly picked up the chopsticks and bowl of hot soup carefully.

As the first morsels settled in his stomach, the blue-banded turtle sighed in contentment, the savory aroma of the vegetables and...was that... _fish_? Leonardo’s sapphire eyes lightened slightly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had fish, had Raph-----?

“ **We were fortunate enough to acquire some seasonal fish...I believe Raphael went to the lake today**.”

This bit of revelation had the mint green terrapin’s features softening slightly but just as quickly, they faded into a mask of indifference.

Leo took a piece of the white flesh and placed it in his mouth...suddenly he was in heaven---it was the most delectable thing he’d ever tasted.

As Leonardo savored his meal, Yoshi patiently and quietly observed his eldest son’s demeanor—the way his shoulders hunched in resignation, the docile-ness of his aura, the slight shake of his hands as he maneuvered the chopsticks to pick up food. The rat master closed his eyes—inwardly sighing; how could he have allowed his child to sink to such depths? Why did he think that children could magically figure problems and decipher their own mentalities and emotions without guidance? The ninja master bit the inside of his mouth hard, the taste of copper filling his mouth and almost causing him to gag. He swallowed the blood and once more opened his eyes to gaze at his boy.

The young terrapin was nearing the end of his meal; Master Splinter’s face softened, “ **Leonardo** \--”

Before the ninja master could utter a word, Leonardo spoke. “M-Master Splinter...I’m...I’m so sorry for what I did. It—it was out of line and I--”

A boney had silenced the blabbering terrapin and slowly he looked up into his father’s face. Yoshi’s features etched in an expression of understanding and remorse.

“ **Leonardo what transpired the other day with Miss Y’Gythgba was something that should have _never_ happened. I’m—I’m so sorry my son—for the internal struggles you were fighting with—I was well aware of this affliction and yet in my ignorance and arrogance I assumed that you could handle it on your own—come out of it unscathed....I am... _I am so, so sorry_**...”

In rapid motion, Leonardo was swept up in his father’s arms—the embrace shocking him.

The rat master nuzzled the cheek of his son, how cold and fragile he felt in his arms—like the baby he was when he’d discovered them in that demolished village so long ago. He squeezed fast to his beloved child, unshed tears clouding his vision.

“ **I should have done _more_ \---I should have paid _better_ attention...I have _failed_ you as a father in this matter but from this point forward, _never again_.** **What was done is in the past, what matters now is the lesson you learn from it and the future to come. Together we shall light up the darkness. No matter what you may think or do--- _I will always love you_**.”

It was as if time stilled in the moment and all that existed were Leonardo and his father. Fighting not to lock up or throw up out of sheer anxiousness, the blue-banded terrapin reciprocated the embrace with all the heartfelt enthusiasm his body could muster. He buried his face in the strong and lush fur of Yoshi’s chest and started to weep quietly, sniffling and nuzzling as he used to do as a tot. Just as well, he’d also reverted to instinctual reptilian affections—chirping and trilling.

In that moment, it seemed that things would slowly but gradually have a chance at healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) : Quote by Iris Murdoch
> 
> (2) : Proverb by Heraclitus of Ephesus
> 
> (3) : In the language of flower meanings & symbolism--Pink hydrangeas stand for heartfelt emotion


End file.
